


Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad

by thevelvetelvis



Series: The Inferno and the One Who Walks With It [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Matt Murdock, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, M/M, Modernized Wizarding World, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Rich Harry, Romance, Slash, Slytherin Harry Potter, Timeline What Timeline, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevelvetelvis/pseuds/thevelvetelvis
Summary: Harry's life isn't so bad, in fact its amazing; he's got an amazing boyfriend, amazing friends (magical and muggle), and is living in one of the most interesting places in the world: Manhattan. However, unbeknownst to him, that life is on the verge of collapse, as forces hidden in the shadows plot to disrupt all that he holds dear. Hidden truths kept at bay will be dragged to the surface, and his resolve will be tested; But at least he has the Devil himself to keep him company, and that isn't so bad, right?





	1. Chapter 1: Limbo I

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooooo everyone, it's your boy (I know right?! Shocking!) thevelvetelvis coming to you with my first fanfiction EVER. I've been sitting on this idea and many, many, MANY more for the past few years since I became obsessed with the MCU and all MCU adjacent material. I've always wanted to see slash fanfiction of Harry and various Marvel men, and was disheartened to see how A) there were very few; B) they were always the same few pairings; or C) they were only drabbles. Well, I took it upon myself to say NO MORE! 
> 
> That being said, thank you all that stumble upon this and read it. I'm not a nuanced or trained writer in the slightest so please bare with me as I get into the groove. Once I find my stride, the chapters will hopefully increase in quality; and when I figure out how to properly write an actual story and not just imagine it in my head, hopefully there will be more slashy goodness coming!

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx_ – thoughts  
**xxx** \- parseltongue

 

 _Unbearable_ ; that was the only way to describe the sweltering wave of heat that blanketed itself upon the aptly named Hell's Kitchen. He'd been trudging along it's streets trying to locate the place where his driver had said he'd be waiting for him. 

"This is the last time I trust this damn phone to take me where I need to be," gritted Harry. 

So, with a grace fitting of Hogwarts' star Seeker, Harry maneuvered his way through a sea people who were clearly enveloped in their own little worlds. _I know I was obsessive as a teenager, but I could never hold a candle to the muggles of New York, thought Harry._

After searching nearly every square inch of the relative area, Harry spotted the sleek black car he'd grown accustomed to these past few months. Gliding up to the car with a sense of glee at the prospect of air conditioning, Harry slid into the backseat as his driver looked back to inspect his employer. 

"If you would've listened to me and let me do my job, you could've avoided drenching your rather expensive clothing in sweat Mr. Potter," chided Bruno, his driver and unofficial assistant. 

"Had I listened to you, I wouldn't have been taken seriously trying to deal with that cocky arse of a businessman," Harry snarked back, clearly annoyed at the circumstances of the day. 

That had always been his problem, even now, at the age of twenty-two. Harry still had to deal with people underestimating him. _It wasn't his fault he wasn't up to the statures of the common man, muggle or otherwise, he was abused and malnourished for Merlin's sake! And damn anyone who thought his upbringing impacted the way he dealt with his company. Well, my soon-(but-not-really)-to-be company, Harry reminded himself._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Trying to balance exploring the wonders of New York and helping expand his father's company had been a challenge to say the least. He'd only been here for ten and a half months and yet he'd had minimal progress in securing partnerships and business dealings. It seemed as if these big businessmen were more willing to fuck him than do actual business. _I don't know why the hell we don't just buy a plot of land and build a fucking skyscraper, it wouldn't totally be out of the ordinary here, Harry thought._

However, thinking back to what his father said before he left for America, "to conquer and expand, we must create a sturdy foundation for which we will be able to spring off of and strike at the most opportune moment," he tried to resolve his tepid mood. What a bunch of Hippogriff shit, sassed Harry in his head. 

"Hello denizens of Hell's Kitchen, today we'll be following up a story that broke months ago involving Wilson Fisk and the homegrown legal team that took him down. As you all know, Wilson Fisk was once a powerful CEO who, through recently revealed means of corruption, was able to gain a hold over our fair city. But, thanks to an incredible duo of lawyers, and the assistance of the ominous Devil of Hell's Kitchen, he was arrested and put behind bars...." The radio station went on to continue its take on the events of the last few months, as Harry and Bruno continued the drive to his penthouse. 

"Bruno could you change the station, I've heard enough of this damn case to last a few years," Harry sniped. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Honestly, the way these muggles sensationalized this vigilante was grating on Harry for various reasons. _I'm being irrational, but for Merlin's sake, why can't wizards see that their own ostracization is becoming more and more inept in reasoning by the day. These extraordinary people are being praised up the arse for what they're doing, regardless of how the law feels. Hell, considering how integrated we are in muggle politics, I don't see the point as we aren't the biggest anomalies in the world anymore, grumped Harry._

"We've arrived Mr. Potter," Bruno remarked as Harry looked up from his thoughts. 

Harry exited the vehicle and bid Bruno a farewell as he made his way through the lobby, ignoring the shallow nods of the staff towards him, and walked with haste to the elevator. After pressing button, Harry leaned against the back of the elevator and sighed. Shuffling his phone from his pocket, he unlocked it and began to dial as the elevator opened up to his private floor. Pressing send, he waited for the call to go through. 

"Hello? Who is this?" said the gruff, yet gentle voice at the other end. 

"You know, I'm not going to fall for that again! I know your phone tells you who's calling you arse!" Harry halfheartedly scolded, smirking at the thought of the man on the line. 

"I know, but I have to endear you somehow, seeing as we haven't seen each other in a while and who knows how many men you've added to that harem of suitors you've collected," joked the man. 

"Well," Harry softened, "I may have collected another one, he seemed to be very pleased at my ferocious negotiation style." 

"Well, it isn't that hard to be impressed by you. You're incredibly stubborn, pig headed, and dedicated in all the right ways," the man gushed. 

"Mmm flattery won't get you anywhere soon Matt, especially not after you missed another date night," Harry sulked. 

"I'm sorry, with the influx of clients after Union Allied, Foggy, Karen and I have been swamped with cases. We're trying to break even, but I can't just not help these people," Matt reasoned. 

"Why don't you just let me buy out your lease? You know it's pennies for me. I want to help you help the world!" Harry preached as he strengthened his English accent for the last line. 

"I can't take your money Harry, I don't want to mooch or take what I can't payback," Matt sighed. 

"Well how about I pay for your guy's lease and you pay me back by taking me out to that lovely Indian place Karen recommended a few weeks ago," Harry offered. 

"Hmmm," Matt hummed, "I may just take you up on that offer mister businessman. Although, I think I'll have to talk to my lawyer to see if we can renegotiate that first part," Matt jokingly argued. 

"Whatever, just please let's go out, I want to hear about that dog humping case Karen mentioned," Harry said. 

"How about we meet up at Josie's and we'll see where the moment takes us. I can tell you all about the amazing gifts we've been getting," Matt flirted. 

"Fine, I'll see you then. Love you," Harry sighed. 

"Love you too," Matt answered back.


	2. Chapter 2: Limbo II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's prospective evening of fun times is cut short when trouble comes crashing through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was already rewatching Daredevil, but I decided to restart my rewatch to help jog my memory of events, and to help inspire me. So that's why this came out so quick. 
> 
> I also forgot to say this in the heat of posting, so I want to say now that I don't own any characters, places, canon plots, etc in this story. They belong to Marvel and JK Rowling.

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx_ – thoughts  
**xxx** \- parseltongue  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

~ The arid temperatures of the night permeated throughout the city, cradling New York in it's warm embrace. Crime was as ever present as always, woven into the fabric of the city as the concrete paved upon the ground. But, in that calm lay a storm brewing in the far reaches of Hell's Kitchen. In a split second, what once was a celebration of liberation and optimism became a scene of carnage and destruction. ~

“You can drop me off here Bruno,” said Harry as he exited the vehicle that was clearly out of place in this part of the city.

“Would you like me to pick you up? Or are you spending the night with Mr. Murdock?” Queried Bruno.

“Well, hopefully I'll be staying the night, so you can just go on your way. I'll call you in the morning. Goodnight,” Harry calmly proclaimed.

Harry sauntered into the dismal, yet oddly homely, bar. He had dressed as casual as he could, brandishing a pair of slim jeans and a thin black long sleeve shirt. Round glasses framed his trimmed, yet still wild, black hair and his emerald green eyes. Said eyes glided across the room, searching for his dear companions among the occupants of Josie's. Landing on a familiar pair of red spectacles and walking stick, Harry trotted towards them with a thinly veiled sense of excitement at seeing his favorite lawyer. Making his way over, he observed the bizarre and comical scene of Matt trying to play pool with Karen and Foggy. With an almost magical sense of recognition, Matt turned around and smiled over at Harry and beckoned him to come over.

“How did you know I was coming over?” Harry hotly exclaimed as he made his way to hug Foggy and kiss Karen on the cheek. Finally coming over to his darling lover, Harry planted a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“Maybe you guys really are soulmates and his soul recognized you the second you entered into a five-block radius of Matt!” Foggy jokingly exclaimed, adding as much drama as possible.

The four began to giggle as Harry nestled his way into Matt's slightly sweaty side. Taking in the atmosphere of ease, Harry began to relax and fall into the groove he'd come to love since integrating himself into this ragtag group. Taking the beer from Matt's hand as he shuffled to continue his game, Harry took a swig and observed the table. 

“You have a six at your two o'clock,” Harry remarked, moving over to help maneuver Matt into the proper position.

Matt readied himself and struck the cue ball, hitting its target with as much precision as a blind man could muster. Harry looked on with a lopsided smile, giggling softly as the six ball missed the hole by a bit.

“Did I hit it?” Matt cutely asked Harry and his companions.

“Of course you did buddy, you hit it with the precision of a ninja!” Foggy teased with the odd comparison. 

Harry raised an eyebrow at the inside joke while Karen looked on with as much contemplation as himself. 

“Yeah, like a ninja…” Matt said, voice being strangely laced with subdued tension.

Matt turned his head toward the general direction of his best friend and made a face that seemed to give off an aura of standoffishness. Sensing the slight tension, Karen decided to take Harry by the arm, announcing to the other two that they were going to get more drinks.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Aww, why did you have to evacuate us. I'm sure they were just joking around,” Harry whined to his strawberry blonde friend.

Karen looked back at the two college friends and clicked her teeth. “Well they seemed to want to talk about something, I thought we'd just let them discuss their bro-talk while we relax in a slightly less tense area,” Karen said.

While Karen occupied the Brit, Foggy and Matt conversed about the happenings of their lives in a post Fisk, and more importantly a post identity reveal, Hell's Kitchen. As soon as the other two were far enough away and not paying attention, Matt set himself up in the perfect position. Hitting the cue ball with much more force and precision, Matt was able to sink two balls at once, both impressing and annoying his blonde friend. 

“You really are working that blind schtick of yours. Got yourself a pair of pretty green eyes to see for you when you know you don't need it!” Foggy snarked.

“Hey! I can't be flipping over the table and hitting the ball 'like a ninja’; besides, I think it's cute that he wants to be my eyes,” Matt said, forming a slight pout that annoyed Fogy even more.

“Whatever. Show off!” Foggy said with a look of seriousness, although his tone gave off his true intention of humor. 

However, as Foggy began to talk again, Matt began to notice a much more serious sound in the bar. Focusing over to where Karen and Harry were, Matt picked up the rattling of what he realized was a gun. His eyes widened as he turned to Foggy and reported his findings to his friend. Forgoing his friend proclaiming the less than stellar reputations of the bar’s residents as reasoning, Matt fast tracked to his two vulnerable companions. This gained the attention of Harry who looked on in worry as he noticed his boyfriend coming over with a serious expression. 

Bypassing the two, Matt leaned in front of the suspicious man. Positioned in front of them, he began to question the man.

“You ok friend? Cause if you're not, I think there's other bars you can occupy. Bars with people that aren't as good as the people in here,” Matt said sternly. 

“I’ll be fine when I can find Nelson and Murdock. And by the looks of it, I think I found them. You must be the blind one,” the man harshly said.

“Well then, what can the law office of Nelson and Murdock do for you?” Matt retorted.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

The man's eyes swiveled a bit, as if searching for an enemy that probably wasn't there, and he gruffly asked for some counsel with the legal team. Picking a cleared table, the three parts of the team sat in front of the man while Harry took up space a bit to the side. 

“Fifteen tough Irishmen. All armed to the nines. All blown away. It was a massacre,” Grotto, as the man introduced himself as, confessed. 

“It was like an army plowed through the room, no one but me was left,” he admitted, accented voice shaking from the memory.

“Interesting story. Is there any way to corroborate it?” Foggy questioned with his courtroom facade on.

After explaining the location of said massacre, Grotto further answered the questions of their interrogation. After a bit of back and forth, the two parties settled on what was being asked of the other. 

“I want witness protection, and I want to have someone at my back while I ask for it. I know how that shit operates, I want representation,” Grotto replied. 

“Mr. Grotto, we have a reputation of protecting the good people of Hell's Kitchen. Why should we help out a career criminal?” Matt shot back.

After a proclamation of wanting a second chance and faith, Grotto's speech became more noticeably erratic and stressed. Harry, after years of seeing similar behavior rushed forward before anyone else as Grotto toppled over. _Shit he's bleeding. Ok, ok, I've got to find the injury, Harry thought to himself._

“He's bleeding guys, we have to get him help,” Harry exclaimed as he began to put pressure on the wound.

“Shit, ok. Harry, you and Karen go with him to the hospital. Foggy and I will go to the crime scene and see what we can pick up,” Matt ordered.

As Karen and Foggy helped move Grotto into Karen's car, Harry walked back towards Matt with worry adorning his features.

“Be careful Matt, you're not a superhero. Don't get caught up in some something that you can't get out of. You still have that necklace I gave you as a present? The one for good luck?” Harry nagged.

Matt loosened his collar a bit and reached for the pristine silver triangle hooked onto a chain, showing it to Harry to calm his worries. 

“Yeah, I never take it off. Don't worry, I'll be careful. Plus, I'll have Foggy there, and he'll be an excellent bodyguard for me!” Half joked Matt.

“Ok, I'll try to call you when Karen and I get him over there,” Harry sighed.

With that, Harry and Matt kissed and parted ways. As Karen and he drove off, Matt and Foggy were walking in the opposite direction.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

As Harry and Karen entered the emergency wing of Metro General, Karen finagled a tale of young love and honor to a nurse. Said nurse, overcome with emotion over what seemed to be a romantic story, rushed Grotto into a room while they were told to wait out.

“And here I thought I'd finally be able to spend the night with Matt. Not that you aren't great company, but I had a different vision of tonight. Less blood and more cuddling,” whined Harry as he and Karen sat in the waiting room.

“Well I'd like to think I'm a good cuddler, if your still up for it,” Karen quipped at him while winking. “Besides, I get the feeling this is something big. For a while, we've been helping the small folks of Hell's Kitchen, but some part of me has been feeling like there's a storm coming after all this calm,” Karen sighed, obviously trying to rationalize the impending sense of dread at the prospect of more danger.

After some time, the nurse called them over and allowed them to sit in Grotto's room. It took about an hour for him to wake up, and what followed was an exchange between Karen and him about their safety.

“Don't worry, we used fake names. Now lie back and relax, cause right now whether you like it or not, Karen and I are the best chance you've got right now,” Harry asserted.

Grotto sneered and did as he was told. With that settled, Harry took out his phone and attempted to call Matt. After a few rings, Harry hung up realizing he probably wouldn't be answering soon. So, instead, Harry dialed Foggy.

“Foggy, what's going on? Matt hasn't been answering. Where are you guys? Did you guys get anything?” Harry asked in rapid succession. 

“Ok, um, so...everything's gone to shit. Basically, Matt left to go research some stuff on suspects, I'm going to see if I can contact someone in the Dogs of Hell, and we found out that there's some sort of military level gang going around,” Foggy tried to answer.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry whispered as low as he could, “Ok, Karen and I are with Grotto right now. He's conscious but we were careful when we got in here. Call back if you find anything. And if you hear from Matt, please tell him to call. If what you guys heard is true, he's not safe,” Harry declared and hung up after saying their goodbyes.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

It was getting late, and Karen and Harry were suddenly stricken with all the built-up stress of the night. They decided a short rest was in order, so Karen closed her eyes while Harry took a 'first watch’ of sorts. However, their brief calm was shattered as shrieking of guns and chaos woke the three of them from their stupor. _Merlin, someone's here, I can't let Karen get hurt. I have to get them out of here, Harry thought through his stress._

Grabbing his wand from a holder charmed to the back hem of his waistband, Harry slid it into his sleeve as discreetly as possible. Signaling the other two to follow, he allowed them to rush forward while he took up the rear. Long buried instincts came to the surface as Harry prepared himself for any sort of conflict. At the first bang of a gunshot, Harry shifted back as far as one could while trying to run. 

Seeing the lone gunman shoot, Harry's eyes widened and held out the sleeve his wand was in and said with as much force as he could while whispering, “Protego!” 

As fast as the bullet left the shotgun, it bounced off of the slightly visible magical shield and hit a rack of hospital food. _Thank Merlin everyone's too scared to pay attention, Harry inappropriately thought as he ran with the other two._ Seeing as there wasn't enough time to cast any complex protective spells without revealing himself or getting shot, Harry decided the best course of action was to prevent the man from getting near them. At that same moment, Karen eyed a stairwell and ran towards it with the others.

As the three of them filed through the door, Harry turned back for a flash and whispered, “Colloportus!” As the door shut, a sheen of magic enveloped the door for a second before fading out. The jiggling of the handle, and lack of opening, let Harry know his spell had worked for now. 

After a few flights of stairs, they were outside the building and rushed towards Karen's car. Seeing Karen struggle with her keys, Harry panicked and pressed his wand hand into the door handle, casting an Alohomora. In the same moment the spell worked, Karen was able to unlock her door the traditional way. With Grotto ducking in the back seat, Harry braced himself as Karen punched the gas and drove. In the brief moment he allowed himself to relax his tense body, a shot rang through his ears as the car windows in front and behind him shattered. 

“Holy fuck... fuck fuck fuck!” Karen swore as she too ducked her head, pressing the gas pedal even harder now.

“Karen! Pay attention to the road! We'll be as dead if he shoots us from wherever as we will be if you crash,” Harry stressed, adrenaline through the roof. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Thankfully, there were no shots for the moment, signaling that they could at least have their eyes on the road again. Barreling through the streets of Hell's Kitchen, Karen drove them to the Fifteenth Precinct. After coming to a screeching halt, the party of three practically jumped out of the car and rushed in, breathe heavy and worn. In an instant, the officers and staff came towards them, with one officer in particular coming to their aide. 

“What the hell is going on? Are you guys ok? We just got a call from Metro General about a gunman, and I'm guessing you guys were involved,” Officer Brett Mahoney deduced from their shaken demeanor. 

“Please officer, we need your help...” Karen pleaded, voice shaking to the point of inaudibility.

Harry looked on in worry, and when they were able to sit down, he took Karen into his arms and tried to calm her down. 

_Merlin... Matt I really need you right now, please be safe. Please be ok. Harry pleaded desperately in his head._

As soon as the thought entered his mind, an unfamiliar, but incredibly unwanted sense of dread filled his heart and mind. A tingling he hoped he'd never have to feel itched at him.

_Oh Merlin... Matt's hurt and in trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to address the way I want to handle the story. All too often do I see crossover fanfics of HP and other worlds where Harry's very existence is sometimes boiled down to two plot involvements, IMPACT and INFLUENCE. By the former, I mean his very involvement shifts the story to places canon would never. Unfortunately, as often as I see people really excel at this, there are some where I go in my head while reading "hmm, he's pulling out one too many deus ex machinas from of his ass." By the latter, there's influence in that Harry is sort of relegated to either a bystander or someone who has no true impact. My goal is to tip toe the line between these two. Harry being there will alter motivations for some plot lines, while also changing some all together. Some plot points will not exist because certain motivations are not here, and there will be brand new ones that I've brainstormed for this story. 
> 
> Also, if anyone sees the tags, reads certain parts of these past two chapters and wonders why they're there, don't worry! These will all play out in sub plots and bleed into the main plot eventually. I will reveal certain aspects of Harry's past as I've concocted through flashbacks. But there are also certain things that I'll hope you guys can just ride with while I think of a way to explain them haha. 
> 
> As I said last chapter, any constructive/positive criticism is welcome! But don't be assholes though!


	3. Chapter 3: Limbo III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the attack, Harry and company are faced with the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really churning these out huh?! Anyway, like I said last chapter, none of this except for certain plot points belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling and Marvel.

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx_ – thoughts  
**xxx** \- **parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

Silent nights rarely ever stay silent in Hell's Kitchen. Whether it be the Devil seeking his retribution or the damned damning themselves further, something always finds a way to break through. Tonight, it was Hellfire raining down in the form of bullets. In the fiery landscape, the emerald raven flew off to safety, and the Devil fell. A beast of vengeance ripped him from his perch, and now he lies helpless, crying out for his raven to return.

~Matt vaulted through the rooftops of the city, racing towards the commotion that blared through the night. Matt could sense the origin of the noise that had been ringing in his ears was near. As he readied himself for a fight, his enhanced hearing picked up two voices he was incredibly familiar with. 

“Holy fuck... fuck fuck fuck!”

“Karen! Pay attention to the road! We'll be as dead if he shoots us from wherever as we will be if you crash”

Matt's heart began to thump faster and harder against his armored chest. _No, no, no, no! Harry and Karen are in danger! I can't let them get hurt! Matt panicked._ As stealthily as he could, he approached the assailant from the shadows. Just as he cocked his gun and readied another shot, Matt sprang into action. Focusing on the obviously trained movements of his opponent, Matt tried his best to match up blow for blow. The brawl lasted for what felt like hours. Punch for punch, kick for kick, block for block; the two masses of pure skill we're almost evenly matched. Matt knew that he'd have to push himself beyond his limits in order to beat this guy. His thoughts drifted to Harry and Karen’s faces, and his resolve doubled. However, pure will was no match for the strength of a bullet to the head. Although the bullet never touched his head, the impact sent shockwaves throughout his body. So much so that he stumbled back and fell. As he lay on the roof, Matt's senses were going haywire and his thoughts became scattered. All he could focus on was his Harry being safe, and the thought of that madman on the loose shook him to his core. Yet, all he could do was lie there, alone. ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

The sick feeling in Harry's gut wouldn't go away, and minute by minute it grew even more. Worry ripped through his mind, much like it did when they were trying to escape that psycho. But this time, it seemed much more concentrated. He had no adrenaline to curb his fears, no fight or flight response, not anything. He was sick to his stomach because Matt, his darling Matt, was in trouble and he couldn't do anything about it. All he could imagine was Matt being beaten, or even taken advantage of by some thug who wanted a go at a blind man. Even though he knew he could just apparate to the magical beacon his necklace was charmed to be, he couldn't just leave Karen alone either. Not with the way things had been. She was a strong and capable woman, but she obviously needed support right now. So, he decided to call Foggy and see what was going on.

“Foggy, where are you?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as could be.

“Oh God, Harry! Are you and Karen ok? I'm at Metro General and it's carnage out here. God…” Foggy said as his voice tapered off at the end, reeling in disbelief.

“We're fine, but Foggy, I think something's wrong with Matt. I tried to call him earlier, but he wouldn't pick up. Please tell me you know where he is, I have such a bad feeling right now,” Harry exclaimed, starting to lose composure at the thought of his boyfriend being hurt, or worse.

As Foggy was about to answer, he stopped and listened in on an officer. Hearing about a gunshot on the rooftops, Foggy hastily ran towards the area.

“Harry, I'm heading over to Matt now. Just keep Karen company and I'll we'll call you back once we meet up,” Foggy rushed, hanging up before Harry could offer a goodbye. 

Desperation racked through Foggy’s frame, manifesting itself in the hurried pleas to apartment landlords to let him in their buildings. Thankfully for him, and for Matt when he'd find him, New Yorkers were a self-interested bunch. None of the people who answered questioned him much and opened their doors for him. Launching himself up countless flights of stairs, Foggy began to worry even more. Harry's hollow voice pleading for him to find his boyfriend, his best friend, had scared him. Sure, Matt was some super powered vigilante, but Harry has always had this weird sixth sense. If he didn't know any better, he'd think Harry was like psychic or something. But, he couldn't think of stupid thoughts like that right now. All he needed to worry about was finding Matt. 

Harry looked on from the corner he was standing in, observing Karen as she discussed with Grotto the legal implications of trying for witness protection. Listening in was pointless, as he didn't understand any of the legal drivel. So, he tuned it out and just focused on his environment. Peeking out the blinds of what looked to be an interrogation room, Harry stared at the officers and detectives of the precinct scrambling. _I wouldn't want to be them now. Hell, I wouldn't want to be me now. Merlin, New York is just astounding with what goes on in it, Harry contemplated._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Just as Harry began to lose track of time, Officer Mahoney came in through the door with what looked to be some clothes for Grotto. Or, as close as you could get to clothes for being found in a police precinct. After an exchange of complaints, Karen and Harry were ushered out of the room. 

“Now, I'm going to let y'all know that the DA is coming down here to talk to your man in there. So, I suggest you guys phone your lawyer friends before shit gets ugly,” Mahoney said.

“Ok, um… we'll call them,” Harry said, obviously exasperated at the situation. 

“I'll call Foggy, you want to try Matt again?” Karen stated.

“Yeah, I'll try again. Hopefully he picks up this time,” Harry said as he frowned.

Both went to a quiet room and dialed on their phones. One ring, two rings, three rings. Both phones rang for a minute, until finally one of them was able to get through. 

“Foggy! Have you found Matt yet? Harry said you were meeting up with him,” Karen said.

“Yeah I met up with him Karen. Can you put this on speaker, or let Harry listen in?” Foggy asked. Beckoning Harry over with a wave, the two sat with the phone between them as Foggy began to speak again.

“Ok, so I was able to find Matt, but right now he's in a bad way. I think someone tried to jump him while he was on his way back home. He's ok now,” Foggy explained, with an annoyed groan becoming prominent in the background. 

“Matt? Is that you?” Harry asked with trepidation.

Handing the phone over to his friend, Matt answered back to his boyfriend, “Yeah, it's me. Are you ok? Foggy told me what happened. I'm glad you guys got away.”

“I should be asking you that! Why weren't you answering my calls when we got to the hospital? I was worried sick!” Harry exclaimed, frustration very much apparent in his tone.

After a less than fruitful exchange about safety and make up dates, the group finally settled in to talk about the situation at hand. 

“So, officer Mahoney told us that the DA’s office is sending someone down here to talk with Grotto. He told us that you guys should come down here to help negotiate,” Karen stated matter of factly.

“Well Matt's in no shape to come down, so I'll go. Keep whoever they send busy till I get over there. And don't let them talk to Grotto!” Foggy seriously stated.

After hanging up the call, the pair at the station made their way back to the interrogation room. They waited for half an hour before a woman, who had an air of arrogance, strutted through the door with another man. Harry and Karen looked at each other, both realizing this was who the DA must've sent.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Harry asked, trying to keep a straight face despite a strong need to roll his eyes at the woman's demeanor.

“My name is Samantha Reyes, I'm the District Attorney. Behind me is Blake Tower, the Assistant District Attorney. I'm sure you've been informed, but we're here to take Mr. Grote and his case off of your hands,” Reyes stated haughtily. 

“Well, not to sound disrespectful,” Karen chewed out, obviously trying to hold her tongue, “but Grotto is our client, so I think you can wait outside while we wait for my associates to get here, so we can do our job and provide him with the best possible legal advice.” 

Reyes glared at Karen, trying to impose as much faux dominance as she could into the exchange. Harry could see though that Karen wasn't about to back off either, so he sat back and observed the stalemate. Just when things looked like they would reach a fever pitch, Foggy sauntered in. Karen sighed in content as her 'boss’ came in, feeling the relief of someone with actual legal ammo being there. Foggy looked between Karen and Harry, offering them as much comfort in his look as he could with Reyes in the room. Harry, although wanting to make sure everything was ok, decided that he should probably take this moment to exit, before any important things he'd be side eyed for knowing were said. 

“Matt's at his apartment Harry. I'm sure he'd rather have you play nurse for him than me. I don't think he was really feeling me in the part,” Foggy jested, despite the ticking time bomb of a DA being between them.

“I'll head over there once my driver gets here. Good luck you two,” Harry said, giving them a sympathetic look for the upcoming storm they were about to face. 

Before trying to leave the station, Harry decided to snoop just a bit. Try as he might, he was never fully able to shake off that Gryffindor sense of meddling his father always scolded him for. Walking up to officer Mahoney, Harry began to maneuver the conversation to try and get some information on this guy.

“So, officer, do you have anything on that gunman? I know it's probably top secret, but I'm a bit shaken up, and I'd rather know who's out there on the streets,” Harry said, trying to emulate the same sense of vulnerability he saw in Karen last night.

“Listen… just between you and me, some of the officers think he's part of a group we like to call 'Devil Worshippers’. Fanatics that try and copy the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, a bunch of nutjobs. Half of us think he's making our jobs easier, some think he's a stray bullet away from hurting an innocent,” Mahoney exclaimed, a clear sense of worry marring his face. 

“Do you guys have a name yet?” Harry asked.

“The DA named him The Punisher. Real nasty vigilante type, like Daredevil but Death Wish style,” Mahoney stated.

“Thank you so much. I'll contact you guys if I see anything,” Harry said. Bolting away from officer Mahoney, Harry made his way outside and to the curb, where to no shock at all Bruno was waiting for him with a bag in hand.

“I acquired the supplies you asked for Mr. Potter. I added a bit more vials of Pepper-Up Potion for yourself as well,” Bruno stated gingerly.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

After thanking him and entering the car, Harry allowed himself to finally doze off. A year's worth of action packed into one night was certainly something that took a lot out of someone, even him. It only took a few more minutes for them to arrive at Matt's apartment. Exiting the vehicle, Harry made his way inside the building. Walking down the hallway, Harry took out the spare key Matt had given him a few months ago and stuck it in the keyhole. Though, right before he unlocked the door, he swore he could've heard the jostling of something being shoved.

“Matt!” Harry nearly shrieked as he ran towards his boyfriend and practically tackled him into the couch. “Oh fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think of your injuries! Are you ok?” Harry said exasperatingly, taking up the nursing role Foggy had joked about before. 

“Hey, hey hey! It's ok Harry, I'm fine. Nothing an aspirin and a few kisses won't fix,” Matt cheekily said. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry gave into the bait and hooked his arms around Matt's neck, joining them so that their hearts were beating against one another. Matt put his hand on the side of Harry's face and pulled it towards his own, easing their lips together. As soon as their lips laid upon each other, Harry immediately deepened the kiss. Their limbs began to tangle as they lost themselves in each other. All care for everything around them was gone, and what remained was just the urge to touch one another as much as possible. 

The snogging lasted the better part of an hour, where the only breaks they took were to breathe and cuddle. Satisfied that he'd metaphorically kissed all of Matt's aches away, Harry got off the couch and made his way the kitchen with his bag. Grabbing a cup and filling it with bourbon, Harry looked back and made sure Matt was settled. From his bag, he took a vial of Pepper-Up Potion and mixed it in. He felt bad about not letting him know, but he wanted to make sure that Matt was as healthy as possible. He didn't want to take any chances. While pouring another one for himself, Harry had missed the confused face of Matt behind his back at the sound of the drinks. _I wonder what Harry poured into our drinks, Matt thought. Harry brought the glasses and handed one to Matt._

“I added an herbal mixture. It's just some natural stuff to help with stress and to get the body to heal,” Harry said, glad he was able to cover for himself.

Matt took a sip and smiled at Harry, oblivious to the true nature of what he had just consumed. Finishing their drinks, the pair decided it was best to rest in bed. Removing his clothes, Harry decided to wear one of Matt's shirts to bed. Although he was only bit shorter than Matt, he was much less muscular, and therefore the shirt hung loose on his upper body. 

“I think I'm just going to close my eyes for like five minutes… or hours… or days,” Harry drawled out, exhaustion taking over.

“If you do that, I'm gonna have to kiss you awake,” Matt joked. 

“Then that would make you my prince charming. So, I guess I'm just gonna have to sleep for a long time while you try and wake me up with a kiss...or twenty,” Harry tiredly said, attempting to act cheeky and wink, but failing due to his drooping eyes.

“Sweet dreams,” Matt lovingly whispered.

“You too, love you,” Harry responded back as both allowed sleep to take them.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Listen lady, unless you can offer us a legal reason why you want to push us out of this case, I suggest you sit down and let us hash this out. Cause if my time at Columbia taught me anything, it's that local DA’s don't have the authority for this. That pleasure goes to the Department of Justice. They might be arrogant dicks too, but at least I know they'll get the job done,” Foggy sneered, getting increasingly fed up with dealing with Reyes and her goon. He took great pleasure in watching her squirm while he dialed the DOJ.

“Hang up the phone, hang up! What do you want?” Reyes shouted.

“All we want is our client's insured safety. We've laid out his terms, all you have to do is sign and agree,” Foggy said.

If looks could kill, Reyes’ glare would've annihilated everyone in that room. Taking a deep breath, Reyes gave them an ultimatum, “Fine, here's the deal: Mr. Grote helps us apprehend a high-level drug lord, in exchange we fast track him through witness protection.”

“Hell no! I'm not putting myself out there, they'll know I squealed. If that Punisher guy doesn't get my ass the Irish will!” Grotto frantically argued.

“This is the only deal we're offering, take it or leave it. I'd suggest you talk to your… legal counsel and let them convince you that this is your best shot,” Reyes replied.

After a back and forth that ended with Grotto's apprehensive agreement, the occupants of the room exited and left to prepare for the wire. 

While waiting for the operation to set up, Foggy took himself aside and called up Matt.

“Umm… hello? Foggy? What's wrong? Did Reyes take the deal?” Matt groggily queried.

“Did I wake you up? I'm assuming by your tone Harry's probably still asleep,” Foggy guessed.

“Yeah, he's been through it. But I'm feeling much better after that, nothing more than a nap wouldn't fix,” replied Matt.

“You sure it was a nap that healed you? Cause I was thinking it'd be more _'Sexual healing baby’_ ,” Foggy sung, clearly mocking his friend. 

“Screw you!” Matt joked back.

“Well, I'm glad you’re ok cause we might need you. Reyes agreed to WitPro but forced Grotto into being bait for a sting,” Foggy said, sobering up from their lighter tone from moments ago.

“Shit… you guys there now? In fact, where are you guys?” Matt said.

“A junkyard near the docks, they're getting ready for the wire. I was thinking with the both of us here, Reyes won't be able to bully him into doing something even more dangerous,” Foggy explained. 

“Ok, ok… I'll head over now,” Matt hurriedly replied. Before he could hang up, however, Foggy made it a point to tell Matt, “Please come in your own clothes, don't come here in your… special outfit. I need you as Matt right now.”

With that, Matt hung up and made his way to the hidden compartment containing his suit. Before he could grab the bag, Matt heard rustling in his bedroom. Making his way over, he sat on the side as Harry's eyes fluttered open. Combing his hand through Harry's raven locks, Matt placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Foggy called, they need me to help out with Grotto. It might be a while, so I'll call when I can. Stay as long as you need to,” Matt lovingly replied.

With a yawn and reposition, Harry answered back, “Ok, just be safe. That Punisher guy is still on the loose.”

“Punisher?” Matt asked, scrunching his face.

“Shit, I guess Foggy didn't tell you. Well, Mahoney told me that was what the DA was calling the guy that shot at Karen and I,” Harry stated tiredly. 

“Well, I'll make sure I avoid him. Love you,” Matt said, getting up to leave. After striding out the bedroom door, Matt closed it behind him and grabbed the bag. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry waited till he heard the door close, and felt Matt leave the building to sit up.

“Sooner or later, you're going to have to confront him. He's leaving you more times than he's saying hello,” said the red eyed figure in the corner. 

The moment he heard those unwelcomed condescending chides, Harry let out a growl like sound and stared at the figure.

“I think that you should fuck off, he's a lawyer working a case. Of course he'd need to be on call,” Harry argued.

“Was he on a big case last week when he cancelled for the umpteenth time? Or the week before that? Month?” The ruby eyed phantom laid out. The figure continued on, “I’m just letting you know, people keep secrets, even from those they care about. You of all people should know that.”

Harry stayed silent, cooling his expression to frigid temperatures, while his eyes lit up with the infernos of Hell itself.

“I'm just making sure you're not in harm's way anymore than you already were after last night. You're no good to me incapacitated, seeing as we share the same body, the same mind, the same soul…” the figure said, walking from the shadows and revealing his handsome guise. 

“We share nothing, all you are is a **stowaway** ,” Harry said, emphasizing the last word in parseltongue, “So I suggest taking my advice from earlier and Fuck. Off.” Harry practically yelled.

“And go where? I live inside your head Harry. I couldn't 'Fuck Off’ even if I wanted to; and trust me, I would've gladly left you the second you could speak. But I'm still here, taking care of you and making sure you don't get yourself killed,” the figure sarcastically quipped.

“Whatever get out my sight and go to wherever in my head it is that you sulk in Tom,” Harry stated.

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Tom faded from Harry's vision. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

~ “ **Impossible… this can't be…** ” said the phantasm of a once great and powerful wizard. “ **A living Horcrux…** ” it continued. Shaking uncontrollably, the follower turned host of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named cowered at the immense pressure that squeezed inside his head. 

Talking a shaky breath, Quirrell spoke to his master in a hushed voice, “Master, should we acquire the b-b-boy? If he is what you say, being c-c-caged by these… muggles could possibly harm the piece within him.” 

“Silence! You are a sniveling excuse of a servant! Do not talk to me as if you know what is right,” sneered the wraith of a wizard.

“We must observe the boy. He's still very young, and I suspect Dumbledore has exhausted every expense to make sure he is well protected,” drawled out Voldemort. Continuing, Voldemort stated, “When the time is right, and my strength has returned, we shall come and take him from this filth.” 

“Of course, master,” said the weak professor. And with that, the singular body of the two beings vanished with a pop, with no evidence of their arrival anywhere near Number 4 Privet Drive. ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, I said I would be introducing new plot points and glimpses into Harry's past. 
> 
> Also, I'm making sure to stay true to most of the canon of magic in HP, but for things like the Pepper-Up Potion, I'm hoping you guys can forgive the foregoing of that steam side effect. This'll apply to most things of that nature in regard to magic in this fic.
> 
> You know, I wonder why I'm so conversational in the notes, seeing as barely anyone's here lmao. Anyway, thanks for reading and feel free to comment any criticism/suggestions/general compliments. But don't be an asshole!


	4. Chapter 4: Limbo IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morals vs Revenge, Life vs Death, Daredevil vs The Punisher. Matt and Frank battle it out with more than just their fists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH this part of the season was my least favorite, it felt so transitional that it dragged for me. That's why I found it so hard to write about, and why I kept putting off finishing it. That being said, I got through it so I hope you guys enjoy! Also, like I said, I don't own anything but some of the plot!

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
 **xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

“How is Matt, Foggy? Is he ok to come down?” Karen asked, as she teetered between her two feet.

“I’m… not sure. From the way he was talking, it seemed like Harry needed some extra rest, and I don’t know if Matt’s up to leaving Harry alone,” Foggy fibbed with a bit of worry in his voice. _I can’t get Karen’s hopes up, especially if Matt’s stupid enough to come in the suit. Getting shot in the head should've benched him for way longer than it did._ He couldn't fathom how Matt was able to bounce back that quick. But that was something he had to shove to the back of his head, Grotto was his main concern right now. So, he tried to give Karen a smile of reassurance and got back to prepping the Irishman.

Karen gave him a look of understanding and resolved some of her nerves at the prospect of Matt coming down to help. Though, in the coming hours, that resolve began to wither as she wondered if Matt was OK with joining the pair. The last time she had heard of him was when the sun was still out, and now the city of New York was engulfed in the light of the moon. _Guess he isn’t coming here after all, Karen sighed to herself._

As they entered the stretch of night, the bustling of suits around her began to settle. When she looked from where she was perched, she saw Grotto coming over.

“Can I get a kiss for good luck, sweetheart?” 

Although Karen refused to verbally answer, the gesture held to her chest let Grotto know all that he needed too. 

“I'll take it!” 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Smirking in a cocky way to mask his utter 'pants-shitting’ mood, Grotto left the hub of operations and proceeded to the meeting point. Walking to the open space, Grotto called out for the drug dealer.

“Cut the shit, Brass! The spook act ain't fuckin’ funny,” Grotto yelled out into the night.

As he was standing there all alone, the paranoia began to set in. Every squeak of a rat became the Punisher, and every gust of wind became a troop of Irishmen ready to gun him down. After a particularly loud disturbance, Grotto swerved his head towards a figure standing inside an empty shipping container. Thinking it was the man he'd been sent to find as bait, Grotto paced over with fervor. However, what awaited him wasn't the drug dealer, but a man clads in combat gear while holding an assault rifle. 

“Who the fuck are you?!” Grotto exclaimed.

The man in question rolled his eyes and shoved a bullet proof vest to his chest. “You're gonna want to put this on,” said the man in a stern tone. After clamoring to put the vest on, Grotto heard a bang. Peeking out of the container unit, he witnessed a truck barreling towards them. Scared shitless, Grotto ran the opposite way. Ignoring him completely, the SWAT team that appeared turned their guns towards the truck.

“What the fuck is going on?” “You were trying to bait the Punisher, weren't you!” Foggy and Karen screeched at the same time.

“I don't have time for this bullshit! Move in! The second you see him, apprehend his ass!” Reyes said, busting a vein at both Foggy and the situation at hand. 

When the SWAT team approached the door of the truck, they expected to see the Punisher coming at them, guns ablaze. What they were met with, however, was a bloodied man duct taped to the wheel. 

“He's not here!” A man screamed into his radio.

On a rooftop in the distance, the man they were so desperate to detain was preparing his sniper rifle. Breathing roughly, the man took a shallow breath and whispered to himself, “One batch, two batch, penny and dime.”

As he aimed at the runaway criminal, the man heard a clattering behind him. Before he could react, the source of the noise came straight at him. Knocking the man away from the gun, Matt in the his Daredevil guise proceeded to engage in hand to hand combat with him. His agile blows were matched with the Punisher’s brute force, which led to a stalemate. But, it wasn't until they heard the first shot that they realized they weren't the only ones on the playing field. Across the way, on another building, lay several snipers laser focused on the two vigilantes on the roof. After hearing an order to fire, Matt ducked low to the ground as bullets began whizzing passed them. However, this didn't deter his opponent in the slightest. Ramming towards him, the Punisher took advantage of Matt's lack of focus. Once again, he was at the mercy of the man. Blow after blow, Matt was near delirious, but his will kept him upright. That is, until the man decided to launch himself and Matt through a glass roof. Landing on broken glass and concrete, Matt's senses were once again fried. For the second time that night, the Punisher took advantage of Matt's temporary disorientation and knocked him out with a punch to the face.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry tossed and turned in Matt's bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. His run in with the specter locked inside his head had agitated him, and he was having a hard time trying to relax. Throwing the blanket to the side, Harry made his way into the kitchen and rummaged through his bag. 

“Accio Dreamless-Sleep Potion,” Harry casted in a tired tone. In an instant, the potion shot out his bag and into his hands. The purple potion was a mainstay on his person when he was out. 

Uncapping the vial, Harry brought it up to his lips. However, before he could down the liquid, a sensation tingled at the back of his brain. A sensation he had already felt the day before. Panicking at the prospect of Matt, Foggy, and Karen being confronted by the Punisher, Harry rushed to his wand. But before he picked it up, the sensation faded away. _What in Merlin's beard just happened, Harry wondered. Fuck, I'm on edge, I need to relax. Maybe it was just the jitters._

Sighing to himself, the emerald-eyed Brit downed the potion. After putting the vial in his bag, he calmly walked over to the bed. Feeling the effects start to wash over his body, Harry wrapped himself in the blanket that smelled so much like his precious person. Feeling his eyes droop, Harry took one last moment to think of Matt before he fell to the blankness of sleep under the potion.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Startling awake, Matt tried to reorient his senses. Finding himself chained to a brick shaft, Matt honed his returning senses to find the man that had most likely put him in this. 

“Pretty necklace Red, girlfriend give it to you?” The man said, voice horse and thick. 

Sounds of metal rubbing against rough skin let him know the cooling silver on his neck was no longer there. He surmised that it must've come out of his collar when he fell. 

Trying to ignore the obvious goading, Matt asked the man point blank, “Why didn't you take off my mask?”

“Cause I don't give a shit about who you are,” the man plainly said as he threw the silver charm back at him. Grabbing the chain and tying it to his baton holster, Matt tried in vain to escape the chains. 

After a quick back and forth, Matt took a moment to analyze his surroundings. He was obviously on some roof if the wind and distant traffic had anything to say about it. He could hear the soft clanking of gunmetal and the shifting of gunpowder.

“Why do you do it? Why do you go around and decide whether someone gets to live or die? Is this fun for you? Do you get some sick kick out of it? I mean you're obviously trained, did you take the battlefield home with you?” Matt questioned, trying to get some sort of rational to the irrational behavior of the man holding him captive.

“You ever been to war Red?” The Punisher asked, “Well then shut the fuck up about it. You don't know shit.” 

Silence filled the air. After taking a breath the Punisher continued, “We’re more alike than you think Red. You're one sour day from turning into me. You try to justify what you do, but all you are is some guy running around in pajamas. You put these shit stains behind bars only for them to come right back and ruin more people's lives. It's a cycle and it doesn't work. What I do, it's permanent.”

“We are nothing alike!” Matt practically screamed. “I help people in need! I make sure those people, the ones you want to play judge, jury, and executioner for, are put away. If they want to ruin their lives after, I'll happily take them right back. But at least I'm giving them a second chance! Everyone deserves redemption, even you.” 

“I don't need redemption. I need revenge,” the man said with a foreboding sense of finality. 

Silence once again filled the space between them, but this time it only lasted for a second before the sound of someone walking up the stairs could be heard.

Walking over and putting his head real close to Matt's ear, the Punisher quietly threatened, “If you make a noise, I'll blow their fucking head off.” 

Getting up from his squat, the man made his way over. The moment the man opened up the entrance to the stairwell, the Punisher poked his head over while holding the gun behind the door.

“Never seen you here before? Who the hell are you?” He asked.

“This roof is probably the only real estate a man can smoke in without having to deal with his crazy ass sister,” the Punisher charismatically exclaimed.

Eyeing him with some suspicion, the building owner continued, “Batshit Betty in 2B?”

“I see you know her. I love her to death, but she can be… quite the handful.” In the instant he ended his comment, he removed the safety of his gun and took aim at the man's head. 

“What's your name son?” 

“Frank, sir.” The Punisher replied.

“Well Frank, you can stay up here as long as you like. I know the pain of having to deal with crazy women. But, if you don't mind me asking, did you serve? You've got this air about you, “the man asked.

“Yeah, I served in Iraq and Afghanistan. You?” Frank shot back.

“Third company in Vietnam! It's good to have you back home,” The man proudly proclaimed.

“It's good to be back. And hey, Semper Fi!” Frank said, smirking when the man replied with a fist to his chest.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Turning back to his captive, Frank decided to reignite the conversation they were having before they were interrupted. 

“You think all these shit bags deserve second chances? Well let's see how you'll feel after this,” Frank growled, walking over to another part of the roof. What was once two heart beats became three, and Matt then realized that there was somebody else here with them.   
“Say hello to Grotto. I caught him trying to steal a car to hightail it out of Hell's Kitchen. Why don't you tell Red what you did?” Frank explained, pushing his gun to Grotto's head. This caused him to whimper and thrash about.

“Please! I'm sorry, I won't do anything bad ever again! Please don't kill me, I'm sorry!” Grotto practically sobbed.

“Stop it Frank! He doesn't have to die! Not because he stole some car, please Frank don't do it!” Matt tried to reason.

“Nah, stealing that car isn't why he's here. Tell him what you did!” Frank yelled at Grotto, dragging him along towards Matt. For a second, Frank had dropped Grotto to the ground. This gave Matt some hope, but that was quickly dashed when Frank handed him the gun.

“Here's the deal Red. One gun, one bullet, the two of us. You can either shoot me and save this cockroach, or you can shoot him for what he's done. Your choice!” Frank screamed.

“I'm not doing that, I can't. Frank just let him go! I'll bring him to the police myself!” Matt pleaded. 

“No! I'm gonna prove to you why that bullet belongs in his body. Do you remember a job you did? Guy didn't pay his debt and you came to collect. Ring any bells?” Frank queried. 

“Oh God… I didn't know she was there! Please you have to know, I didn't know she was there!” Grotto whimpered. 

“Grotto just shut up! Shut up!” Matt tried to intervene.

“What did you do to her? Huh? That innocent woman?” Frank asked.

“I killed her… there weren't supposed to be any witnesses. I panicked, I couldn't let anyone know what we did… I'm sorry” Grotto said, defeated. 

“You see Red? Just cause she was there, she had to die. Just like everyone who's ever been hurt by these scumbags. And you wanna let them roam around?” Frank screeched. Pulling another gun from his back holster, Frank pointed it at Grotto's head.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Shoot him! Shoot! Him!” Grotto begged.

Faced with an impossible decision, Matt did what he thought would save everyone involved. Shooting the chain and breaking free, Matt made a beeline towards the two. Reaching Frank in record time, Matt tried to wrestle the gun from his grip. However, it was a fruitless venture, as Matt's weakness from the fall got the best of him. Frank overpowered him and fired his gun at Grotto. Matt's world began to sink as he felt Grotto fall to the floor, blood sprouting from wherever Frank had shot him. Kneeling by his side, Matt was helpless as he heard his heart slow down to a stop. Bowing his head, Matt began to utter a short prayer for Grotto, but was cut short as an explosion rang through the air.

Standing up, he tried to find Frank on the rooftop, but realized he must have escaped after setting off the explosion. On the ground level below the building he was on, Matt could hear the drumming of the Dogs of Hell. Grasping that the bikers were gearing up for a fight, Matt picked up Grotto's dead body and made his way down the flight of steps. After clearing the last set, Matt went through a door and was greeted by bikers, weapons and all. Readying himself for the fight, he grabbed a chain from one of the bikers as he downed him. Slashing away at both the assailants and the lights, Matt's ferocity made quick work of them. Emboldened by the loss of the client he swore to protect, he plowed through their numbers, fighting his way towards, and then out of, the exit. 

Dropping to his knees, Matt placed Grotto's body down on the pavement. Breathing harshly, Matt allowed himself a moment of rest as he waited for the authorities. Hearing the sirens of the NYPD and the ambulances, Matt made a quick escape.

Matt quietly made his way down the balcony stairs of his apartment, trying not to wake his lover. His calm breathing was the only thing that was keeping him from breaking down, so he focused on that until all of his senses were of Harry. With the momentary tranquility that settled, Matt peeled off his suit, making sure to take the necklace off and put it around his neck. After taking out the compartment in his wall, Matt placed his suit in the trunk and sealed it shut. After washing his face with some sink water, Matt limped towards his bedroom. Sliding the door open, he was able to get an even clearer sound of Harry's breathing. Smiling through the sadness of the night's past events, Matt carefully maneuvered his way onto the bed and under the covers. Winding his arms around Harry, Matt had placed Harry securely against his chest. As their bodies touched, Matt felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, and decided he needed to sleep.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Here, let me get that,” Harry said as he took Matt's tie in his hands and began to twist and wind it until it was proper.

Smiling somberly, Matt thanked Harry and proceeded to fix the rest of this ensemble. After the both of them were dressed in black, Matt latched onto Harry's arms as he led them out and to the car waiting for them. The drive was nothing short of saddening. It was today that their little group would be the sole attendants to Elliot Grotes’ funeral. When they got there, they were greeted by a similarly dressed Foggy and Karen. Harry told his driver to wait, and then proceeded to enter the church with them. After a dry but moving sermon, the quartet conversed with the Reverend for a bit. Deciding that they had enough, they all left the church and idled a bit to see what was next. 

Sighing, Harry turned to them, “I'm sorry guys but I have a damn meeting to attend. I'm gutted I can't spend the day you guys, but I wasn't able to reschedule the meeting,” Harry said, exasperated at the thought of having to do business on such a mournful day.

“Don't worry, I don't want to keep you from your meeting. I'll see you later then?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, I'll see you guys later,” Harry said, moving towards Matt to kiss him. Stepping over to his two friends, Harry gave them both a hug before getting back into his car.

“Shall we head over to your next appointment?” Bruno drawled out, though Harry knew it was just his way of cheering him up.

“Do I have a choice?” Harry asked sarcastically.

When they arrived at the glistening building, Harry let out a deep sigh as he exited the car. Walking inside, Harry walked through security and was greeted by a receptionist who told him to wait for a moment. Slightly irritated, Harry pouted and made his way over to the waiting area.

“They have you waiting too?” the woman sitting across from him asked, voice encased in a foreign accent. 

“Unfortunately. You'd think with how stringent they are on scheduling, they'd call you up on the dot,” Harry replied. Smiling at the woman, he made his way over to introduce himself. “My name’s Harry Potter. Thought I'd introduce myself.”

“Well hello Harry, my name is Elektra. Elektra Natchios.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooh character introduction! I have plans to change the dynamic between Elektra and Matt, seeing as he's already in a dedicated relationship with Harry vs the puppy love he had with Karen in the show. There'll be some drama and angst in the next arc of this story! So look forward to it!
> 
> If you want, leave a comment/criticism/suggestion! But don't be an asshole!


	5. Chapter 5: Limbo V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heat ramps up in more ways than one; and as one chapter ends, another begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, I just wanted to say sorry for the long wait. This chapter was such a chore to get through. Its so easy for me to picture scenes in my head, but putting them to words is tough.
> 
> Anyway, there are mentions of child abuse in the beginning flashback, as well as a very steamy scene at the end (marked by *'s in the scene breaks if you want to skip)
> 
> As always, nothing is mine! Even Samuel who is in fact a real character!

Chapter 5: Limbo V

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
**xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

~ Bland. A word so often given a negative connotation. _‘Oh, this sauce is bland’, ‘Oh this outfit is bland’, or ‘Oh you're such a bland person’._ One would think that no one in the world would ever want to be called such a thing or be associated with such a concept. 

Enter Petunia Dursley. 

A woman so obsessed with seeming boring and bland that any aberration to her precious normalcy was met with the wrath of God. This facet of her personality was only shown within the walls of her home; or rather, to the child she never wanted to care for. The nuisance, as she would call him to her book club, that was quite literally dropped on her doorstep. The unwanted freak that reminded her so much of her dead sister that she stuck him inside the cupboard under the stairs, just so that she wouldn't have to see his face, his eyes. 

Harry. Potter. Only son of her sister Lily and that freak of a man James Potter. A child imbued with a power that made him so special and rare. 

And yet, he was treated as nothing more than a servant. Neglected and abused, Harry had never experienced love at that point. It seemed as if, without him being aware in the slightest, Fate had made him into the punchline of a joke. 

“I will NOT tolerate any more of that freakishness, do you understand me BOY?!” Vernon Dursley screamed at the cowering child. 

Harry was subjected to incredibly harsh treatment by the Dursley’s. There wasn't a day that went by where he wasn't called a 'freak’ or being told to stop doing freakish things at least one of the adults, if not both. Even the other child in the house, the slightly older but much bigger Dudley, would pull and prank the poor boy without any remorse. And though he couldn't comprehend it, the Dursley's actively encouraged Dudley to do these things. 

When he could speak and comprehend what was going on, no one would give him any attention. 

Well, no one but the man from across the street. Such a bizarre man, never interacting with the neighbors and always staring out the window when no one was looking. From the outside, it seemed as if he was just a shut in that settled in this cookie cutter suburb. But, that was so far from the truth that it was laughable. 

**“The time is near Nagini, soon we shall procure my precious vessel from those muggle scum,”** Voldemort hissed to his newly created horcrux and familiar.

**“Will I get to eat the humans that hurt the hatchling? They're so big and juicy, just like rats I find,”** Nagini hissed back. 

**“No, not yet. We need to make sure that old fool doesn't know we've acquired the boy. It's taken me far too long to gain a physical form for this to be foiled by your insatiable appetite,”** he hissed to her. 

It had been a long and tedious journey to acquire a body for himself. It helped that he had the idiotic Professor as a host, but amassing the magic needed to do what he wanted was tough. Years passed since he first possessed Quirrell, and since then, he had been biding his time and magic in order to pull off a full possession. Creating a new body was too much of a complex and temperamental ritual, so Voldemort opted for the choice of simply taking over Quirrell’s body from the inside out. Siphoning magic from his core bit by bit, he slowly drained the paranoid professor. As his power, both borrowed and inherent, grew, his hold over Quirrell’s physical body did as well. No longer a leech on the back of his bald head, Voldemort had sunk within his body and simply waited and grew. By the time the process was complete he had taken control. All that was left was to expel the remnants of Quirrell’s soul.

**“It is time”** ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“We're very pleased that Gaunt has shown interest in doing business with Roxxon stateside,” the man, a lower tier board member if he guessed correctly, said.

“Well, we'll see how interested we are by the end of this. If we could get down to business?” Harry fired back.

“Of course. If you don't mind me saying, I'm looking forward to our dealings. You've gained quite the reputation in the months that you've been in New York, Mr. Potter.”

Oil was one of the things he always pitied muggles for having to rely on. Even with the energy advancements of Stark Industries, the world still spoke with oil. And the people who spoke that language were just as devious as the methods used to obtain the precious commodity. _I'm going to have to approach this carefully, Harry thought to himself._

“Gaunt is looking to expand its efforts in energy, medicine, and technology. Seeing as we're based in Europe, we want to have assets here that'll prep the market for an influx of our products. Seeing as you're one of the few major energy and medical companies here, we'd like to have someone with pre-established connections to help things go smoothly,” Harry stated. 

Continuing on his point, “So I simply propose that we be given access to an allotted number of your subsidiaries and associates. To help field test our products and make the government happy. In exchange, you get 30% of the profit and the honor of putting your name besides ours.”

“Mr. Potter, while that is a tempting offer, 30% of profit from products we know nothing about is just too risky of a business venture. Perhaps if the stake increased, and we were given access to the makeup of the products, we could put all our cards on the table,” the man suavely remarked at him.

“And they aren't already on the table now?” Harry retorted.

“Roxxon runs a plentiful number of subsidiaries – labs that test vaccines for consumer use, oil drill sites that use the latest technology to ensure maximum efficiency and environmental safety, and… other means of product engineering and testing. We utilize them in order to have the utmost quality control,” the business man explained, a slight smirk adorning his face. 

_And here I thought I was hiding something, Harry thought to himself._

“Listen, Gaunt prides itself on its transparency. It's what's allowed us to thrive as well as we have in Europe. If you don't want to keep everything over the table, then I'm afraid we may not reach an agreement. And as valuable as your assets are, Stark Industries is right around the corner. They may be a wild card, but at least I know they don't hide anything,” Harry said, trying to goad the man into playing his hand. 

“Mmm… we wouldn't want that, no. Although, I wonder what Stark Industries would say about the nature of your products and your company's president. With all the… extraordinary things that have been exposed to world since the Incident and the Avengers, one could easily mistake your products for something else…” the man snidely remarked, a devilish grin marring his face. 

“Excuse me?” Harry shot back, holding in his rage and worry.

“Merely something to point out, Mr. Potter...” the man said. However, before he could finish his sentence, another man came in and whispered something in his ear. 

“I apologize, but unfortunately we will have to continue this discussion at another time. In fact, how about we have it at a company gala we're holding in few days. I'm sure with a laxer environment, our dealings may be much more fruitful than it was here,” the man said, ushering Harry out of the office room.

Contemplating his course of actions, Harry let his mind shift elsewhere for just a moment. _I need to find out what the hell he meant by that statement… shit I don’t have a choice._

“Fine. May I ask the dress code?” Harry said, smile pinched to the point of non-existence.

“Formal. I'm looking forward to seeing you there, I'm sure you'd be the envy of everyone,” the man commented, either unaware, or ignorant, of Harry's death glare.

Exiting the building, Harry called up Bruno to pick him up. When the car entered his sights, Harry walked up and opened the door, slamming it as he got in. 

“I'm assuming it didn't go well. Would you like me to drive you to Mr. Murdock's? Or a bar?” Bruno asked.

“The New York Ministry, we have a possible problem,” Harry said seriously, while Bruno scrunched his brow and followed his orders. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Carnage and blood splatter littered the floors of the meat shop. The scents of the freshly butchered meat, and freshly butchered people, mixed into a cocktail of putridity. Matt's enhanced senses were working against him, and in one of the rare few times, he wished he were normal. _No, can't think like that now. I have to find him, Matt thought to himself._ Holding back his reaction, Matt walked through the shadows, trying to find some sense of what happened. Hearing footsteps and radio call outs, Matt made his presence sparse.

“Shit… We have multiple dead bodies,” Officer Mahoney said into his radio, “it's a massacre over here. Forensics is gonna have a field day with this…” 

Chancing a possible confrontation, Matt made himself known to Brett. On edge, the officer made his way over to where Matt was, sighing when realizing just who he had stumbled upon.

“It just had to be you…” Brett angrily huffed.

“Did he do this?” Matt asked, steeling his voice to a tone of neutrality.

“Why the hell should I tell you? This is your fault! Because of people like you, this badge,” Brett then pointed to the metal on his shirt, “means jack shit. I should arrest you! You may have helped with Fisk, but you've only screwed us over ever since. This vigilante bullshit is hurting people. It's the wild west out there!”

Matt didn't react to Brett's outburst, instead planting his feet and waiting for the answer to his initial question.

Sighing, Brett gave in and answered, “No… it was the Irish. They have a bone to pick with him, so they put out a bounty. They've been paying visits to every gang, faction, and petty thief that might have information on him.”

“Thank you, officer,” Matt curtly replied.

“I swear to God if you get involved with this shit, I'll arrest you myself,” he angrily chided.

Without answering back Matt smirked, turned around, and disappeared into the shadows while Brett was distracted. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“We've arrived at the Woolworth Building,” Bruno stated. 

With haste, Harry exited the car and approached the side door beside the revolving ones at the front of the building. Flashing his wand to the doorman, Harry watched was he clicked a vintage looking doorbell. Shuffling through the door, he could feel the ambient magic transport him into the elaborately hidden lobby of MACUSA. Strutting at a fast pace, Harry entered an elevator where a small elf waited for his request. 

“I need to meet with President Quahog,” Harry said, trying to display the urgency of the matter.

“Sorry bub, but rando’s can’t be meeting with President Quahog. Now skedaddle and come back with an appointment or whatever the front desk says to get,” the elf brushed off rudely. 

“I don't think you understand, I need to see him now!” Harry loudly exclaimed, drawing attention from everyone in the lobby. Seething openly, Harry tried to make as much of a show to get the attention of the man he was looking for.

“Alright, alright. You know what, you're causing too much of a ruckus. Security! Get his ass out of here,” the elf yelled, with guards rushing from the lower levels to the commotion. 

A group of four guards surrounded Harry, with Incarcerous’ on the tips of their tongues. Scrunching his face and huffing angrily, Harry rubbed his hands on his temples. _Merlin these fucking idiots, the lot of them, Harry thought to himself._

As a last-ditch effort Harry screamed, with some help from a Sonorus, “Sam get your arse down here right now! I don't have time to deal with this shit!”

As if his name was spelled by a Taboo Curse, Samuel Quahog, President of MACUSA, appeared in the lobby. Disheveled by the impromptu Apparation, Sam looked around at the ruckus that was occurring in the lobby. 

“What's going on? Who was calling me?” Samuel said, still looking confused. A brief cough alerted him to the Brit standing in between a group of Aurors.

“Harry! What are you doing here?” Sam jovially exclaimed, waving off the guards. When the commotion was settled, Harry took Samuel's hand and they Apparated to his office.

At the wave of his wand, the mess in his office cleared and Samuel motioned for Harry to sit in the seat across from him. 

“So, what does the Prince want with this poor pauper,” Samuel mocked, bowing to accompany his joke.

Breathing in sharply, Harry got straight to the point, “Sam this isn't a friendly visit. There's something that's happened, or rather, there's something that might be going on right now.” Interest peaked, Samuel sat properly, waiting on Harry to continue. 

“I was dealing with this company called Roxxon. They operate in all kinds of muggle industries and I was negotiating for them to test out some of the muggle-geared products we’ve been developing, but he wasn’t biting. I thought he would renegotiate, but he said something to me. He said that if I went to Stark, they'd think our products were related to that Avengers mess from years ago.”

“What do you mean?” Samuel asked.

“That's why I had to come to you, I think he, or maybe his bosses, know. Know about us, what we are…” Harry trailed off.

“Did you…?” Samuel asked.

“No! I'm not stupid enough to break the Statute of Secrecy. Especially with the political tension over its viability in the aftermath of the Avengers and New York. No… I think they knew who I was,” Harry worryingly stated.

“Merlin… you sure get yourself into some shitty situations. So, what do you want me to do?” Samuel asked.

“I need you to help me find out what they know.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Who did it?” Matt said, facing down at the bloodied man stuck to the carousel.

“The Punisher. Or that's who he was, cause after we're done with him…” the man trailed off, going into a fit of evil laughter. 

Annoyed, Matt simply broke the man's wrist even more than it was, eliciting a scream. Hearing police sirens, he headed off to confront the Irish. 

Snaking his way through the halls of their hideout, Matt stuck to the shadows and observed the armed men from afar. Deeper in the tunnels, Matt could hear the screams of men, one of whom he recognized as Frank.

“If you're gonna do it, then DO IT!” Frank screamed, to which Matt began to hear drilling noise and the gushing of flesh. 

Realizing he had to step in soon, Matt clanked his baton on the wall. Wave after wave of armed Irishmen came at him, trying and failing to subdue him. As he took down the last of the guards near him, Matt traversed down the hallway. Hearing gunshots, Matt picked up his pace to where Frank was. 

“One batch, two batch. Penny and Dime…” he could hear Frank whisper. 

Hearing that some of the men were about to pounce on Frank, Matt stepped in and beat them to the ground. Panting and full of adrenaline, Matt wasn't in the mood for some preachy speech about morality. So, gesturing for Frank to hide, Matt readied himself for the next wave. And as he predicted, a horde of men came through the door. Making quick work of them, followed by a warning of 'no killing’, Matt assisted Frank in leaving the complex. 

Setting him down on the tombstone, the gunslinger closed his eyes and took a breath. Opening his eyes, Frank shifted his head towards Matt.

Tilting his head to indicate he was listening, Frank began to speak to him. “You know, you ain't so bad Red. You kick some ass, even if you’re pussyfooting around.”

Smirking at the obvious jab, Matt answered back, “Don't go sweet on me, Frank. Flattery doesn't suit you, plus I'm taken.”

Chuckling at the prospect of the red suited man having some housewife at home, Frank began to lament on his past.

“You know… she was beautiful. They were all so beautiful. You know… when I first took my kids home from the hospital, I couldn't believe it. Like how could these two beautiful, pure things come from me? I was so sure all of this would screw up my wife's contribution, but it didn't,” Frank said dreamily.

“Are they where that thing you say comes from? 'One batch, two batch. Penny and Dime?” Matt asked.

“You heard that? Huh…You know, sometimes I think you really might be the devil…” Frank temporarily tapered off before continuing, “It was my daughter's favorite book. I used to read it to her right before bed every night. Even when she got older, she would always ask me to read her to sleep. I'd reread it over and over till her eyes would close. My wife would be at the door, looking so peaceful…” Frank responded.

Closing his eyes once more, Frank let a singular tear flow from his eye. Getting caught up in a memory of coming back from service to surprise his daughter, Frank let more flow. Submitting to the fact that the answers he wanted were probably gone for good, Frank cleared his throat and looked up at the night sky.

“I think that's it. I think I'm done,” Frank said forlornly.

As if on cue, a police cruiser emerged from the road, and with it two officers came out. Turning around, Matt was faced with Brett and another police officer.

“Of course, it had to be you. Gunshots, bodies, mayhem, and shit. I should arrest your ass…” Brett growled, tapering off as he saw who the Devil had caught. Continuing on, he said, “that him?” At the sight of a nod, Brett ordered his partner to cuff the Punisher as he did the same to Matt.

“Take the collar. Take the collar, get a promotion, whatever…” Matt said sternly.

“What the… but that's not what happened. Why the hell do you want me to take credit?” Brett asked.

“The people need to know they're safe; that the system works. They need to know that people like you are out there, instead of people like me and him. Vigilante justice can't survive. It needs to end with him… with us,” Matt answered, determination set in his voice.

Contemplating what Matt had said, Brett huffed and undid his cuffs. “Go! Before I change my mind and get your ass!” 

Matt then got up and disappeared into the shadows, as the three people left looked on.

“…” Frank mumbled, before being taken onto a stretcher and out of the cemetery. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Holding onto the railing, Harry braced himself as the elevator fast tracked them to Major Investigation Department. Stepping out slightly disheveled, Harry was met with a small group of three men and one woman. After exchanging pleasantries, Harry began to explain the situation.

“What do you think we should do, sir? We can't risk being exposed, not now,” the woman asked her superior. 

“We need information. I can't contact the No-Maj & Wizard Liaison without sufficient evidence. And even then, with how big this Roxxon is, mass action could be disastrous,” the man sighed.

With that, all the people in the room stood silent, trying to rationalize a plan. After thinking for a few minutes, an idea dawned on Sam, “How about we confront them directly? Well, I mean obviously not go in wands-a-blazing but go directly to them to extract information!” 

They all looked at him for a second, before turning to each other. 

“That too risky!” “That would be asking for exposure!” Two of the men said at the same time.

As the Aurors conversed, Harry thought to himself.

“Me…” Harry said.

They all turned to him this time, confusion on all their faces.

“I was invited to some sort of company gala. They wanted to talk to me there about making a deal. How about instead of sending a team of Aurors, just send me in. They already know I'm coming, so they might let their guard down,” Harry postulated.

“No! How do we know they aren't setting you up? Getting you to come alone and then get the jump on you! If they know who and what you are, the odds are they know how to incapacitate you!” The woman said seriously.

“Then we send someone with him…” Sam said.

Sighing, the head Auror began to gather potential agents to send along with Harry. After some deliberation, Sam decided he would interrupt them. “I'll go. I'm someone they won't suspect if they truly are just bluffing. And if they do know, they won't move, not against Harry AND,” putting extra emphasis on the word, “I being there. They'd be faced with the backlash of making a move against the President of MACUSA and the son of the British Minister of Magic.”

“No! No! No! It's too dangerous. The President shouldn't be going out on field missions! You'd be in the line of fire. We can't risk you becoming unable to lead in this political climate!” The head Auror exclaimed. 

Chiming in with her own two cents, the female Auror continued, “Not to mention you'd be defenseless. I’m sure Mr. Potter is a fine wizard, but even his track record can’t justify this bull-headed plan!” 

“I'll have you know I was the best duelist in Ilvermorny! For all 8 years I might add! Plus, Harry was taught by some of the best wizards in Europe! I highly doubtful we'd be as helpless as you say! And besides, you'll know of us being there. If the situation goes south, you can barge in!” Sam nearly screamed, silencing all the occupants.

Looking over at Harry, Sam made his final plea, “I know it's incredibly stupid for us to go about it this way, but I'm the only one here who knows how to work with you. I know how you think, and how bullheaded you are,” Sam said, smiling at the last part.

Harry looked around, first facing the anxious Aurors, and then to the stern president. Closing his eyes for a second, Harry said his piece, “I think… Sam is right. No offense to you all, but I'm not someone who works within procedure. This is… the best way we can approach this. While we go there, you can work with the liaison to build up a case.”

Clearly perturbed, the Aurors walked away to the messaging area, letting the two have their way. But, before they all left, the woman came up to Harry and whispered, “if you let him get hurt, I'll personally test if that first Avada was a fluke.” 

Narrowing his eyes at the woman, Harry and Sam watched on as the aurors left to plan all the possible hiccups against their plan.

“Well… that went better than I hoped! I'm assuming the dress code is formal? I'll go get someone to press my suit. Should I pick you up? Actually yes, I'll pick you up. Wear something nice!” Sam said, tone doing a complete one-eighty.

Flabbergasted at the tone shift, Harry stood shocked while Sam Apparated to what Harry assumed was his home. Seeing that there wasn't anything else to be done, Harry made his way to the lobby and exited the building. Without a call needing to be placed, Bruno arrived and drove Harry away. 

“I take it you discussed what you needed to?” The driver asked.

“Yes, looks like I'll be at Roxxon’s doorstep once again. But at least this time, I have backup,” Harry responded.

“I hope you know I'll have to contact your father. He'll have my head if I don't,” Bruno said evenly.

Widening his eyes, Harry leaned forward in an instant and said, “Bruno don't tell him! I can handle this on my own. I'll have the President of MACUSA, and the entire Magical Investigation team at my back. He barely trusts me with handling Gaunt’s business dealings!” 

The air was filled with tension, as Harry gave his best and most innocent look to sway him from alerting his father. But, before a decision could be made, his phone rang. Relaxing just a bit, Harry answered, “Hello?”

“Harry!” The voice he recognized as Foggy said, “Can you come to Josie's?! We're celebrating, and there's a lonely lawyer moping without his favorite Brit! I tried to cheer him up, but I think he likes your accent better.”

Sighing at the lightness of Foggy's jokes, Harry told Bruno to go to Josie's while he continued the call. “Oh really? Guess I'll have to make an appearance then… but Foggy, what are we celebrating?” 

“The Punisher was caught! Brett caught him!” Foggy said excitingly. 

Shocked that a regular cop caught the walking army of a man, Harry furrowed his brows before he said he would be there and hung up.

Showing up to the front Josie's in a hauntingly familiar fashion, Harry hurried inside as it started to drizzle. Texting Bruno he'd call if he needed a ride, Harry maneuvered to where the group was sitting.

“Can you believe it? Punisher is caught, gets called a psychopath, and Reyes gets her victory lap,” he heard Karen say dejectedly. 

“Well if he wasn't a psycho, then I hope I never meet an actual one!” Harry said, taking a seat next to Matt.

As he looked over to Matt, Harry narrowed his eyes as he saw the cut on his boyfriend's lip. Choosing to ignore it for now, Harry took a sip of the beer Matt handed him and asked how all their days had gone.

After a few hours of relaxing around the table, the group of four readied themselves to leave. Once they were out the door, they were met with torrential rain.

“Well, where should we go next?” Karen asked.

“Home. I think I'm gonna turn in and catch up on that weeks’ worth of sleep I've lost,” Foggy answered, saying a quick goodbye as he covered himself with a newspaper and ran to a cab.

Seeing the only other single person leave, Karen opened her umbrella and began to walk towards her apartment. But, before she left, she winked at the two and said, “Harry! Make sure he gets to work on time tomorrow! Don't exhaust him!” 

After chuckling at the joke, the couple turned to each other.

“You gonna call your driver?” Matt said, face steadily nearing Harry's.

“No, I was thinking that we had a… night over from a few days ago to make up for,” Harry whispered, hot breath contrasting the crisp coldness of the rain against Matt's face.

 

*-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-*

 

Hooking his arm around Harry's, Matt walked with him towards his apartment. Comfortable silence engulfed the two as they walked in the rain. The patter of the rain against the pavement filled the space, as Harry leaned into Matt. Finally making it to the front of his building Matt stopped and seemingly stared at Harry. And although Harry knew he was blind, it still felt like his gaze was piercing every part of him.

Harry's breathing hitched as Matt traced a raindrop that had fallen onto Harry. Making his way up to Harry's neck, Matt hooked his hand in Harry's hair and drew their lips together. In an instant, everything became hot as the two lost focus of everything around but themselves. Wrapping his arms around Matt's neck, Harry pressed their bodies close and tried to breathe through his nose to prevent any separation. Alas, Matt separated them himself, but faced Harry with a gorgeous smirk.

In a husky tone, Matt asked Harry, “So… you want to stay the night?”

Embarrassingly fast, Harry answered 'yes’, to which Matt giggled and then led him up to his apartment.

Opening the door, the pair made their way to the bedroom, where Harry began to strip out of his wet clothes. Down to only his button up white shirt, Harry shifted back as he heard Matt walk over. Turning around, Harry began to flush as Matt again traced his neck, this time making his way to the first collar button. Eyes misted in a lusty haze, Harry took Matt's hand in his own and undid the button. 

Directing his hand down, Harry guided Matt's hands over the entirety of his shirt till all the buttons were undone. Not letting go, Harry directed his hand to his abdomen, letting Matt feel the dips and plateaus of it. Keeping their hands joined, Matt made his way back up to Harry's neck slowly. Feeling the shivers of Harry's body, and hearing his pants, Matt put his other hand on him to explore the rest of his body. His languid ministrations made them both hot and heavy, as Harry's breathing began to shake even more. 

Feeling his knees go weak, Harry leaned forward and grabbed onto Matt's still clothed form. Looking down, Matt licked his lips and slowly guided the last piece of clothing covering Harry off his body. With that, Harry stood completely naked in front of Matt. 

“Matt…” Harry whispered, ignoring the weakness his plea displayed.

Matt responded by ghosting a kiss on his lips, backing away as he too stripped down to nothing.

Guiding Harry to his bed, Matt laid him out on his back as he made his way on top of him. Dipping his head to envelop his lips, Harry moaned as he felt the sensations of the kiss and Matt's hand making his way to his hole. Harry arched up as the Matt's fingers began to rub it in slow motions. 

Deciding that he'd much rather hear Harry's pretty sounds, Matt moved his mouth to leaving as many love bites as he could. With his mouth unoccupied, Harry was free to make every sound his body caused him to make. 

“Matt… please… I need you,” Harry pleaded, mouth gaping as he began to feel overstimulated.

“Mhhm…” Matt finally answered, coming up from his neck to face Harry, “You're so beautiful you know that? I might not be able to see it, but… I know it. The feeling of your skin on my fingertips… the way you moan… the way your body responds to my touch… everything is so beautiful, so perfect.”

Completely immersed in pleasure, all Harry could do to respond was to moan and arch into his touch even more. Every one of Harry's senses became so vivid in Matt's hold. The neon of the sign outside was as bright as the sun, the sounds of Matt's fingers inside him were like a crashing wave, and the touch of his hands lit up a million skin receptors at once. 

Deciding that he had teased Harry enough, Matt lubed his erection and lined himself up. Taking the plunge, Matt inserted himself slowly inside of Harry. Finally burying himself fully, Harry and Matt both let out a moan.

Matt set a moderate pace, switching between fast pumps and deep strokes. Harry was going crazy with stimulation, and pleaded with Matt. 

“Please… Matt, don't stop. Don't stop… go faster please! It feels so good…” Harry's pleas continued throughout, and they sung in Matt's ears. 

When the two were close to completion, the pace became fervent. Before either could comprehend, the sensation of hitting Harry's sweet spot and the tightness around Matt's erection overwhelmed the two. In an instance, Harry let out a guttural moan as he came all over his stomach, while Matt released inside of Harry shortly after. 

Laying there entangled with each other, Harry leaned on Matt as the man sat up as best he could.

“I love you…” Harry said, as he used his hand to guide Matt into another kiss.

“I love you too, Harry,” Matt responded after the thorough snogging.

They stayed in the same position for a bit to collect themselves, before Harry got up to go clean off in the shower. 

Holding out his hand expectantly, Matt smiled and got up to join him. After another session of snogging in the shower, Harry and Matt switched the sheets and prepared for bed. 

 

*-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-*

 

Hours passed since their night of passion, with the hum of the neon sign at his window filling the empty soundscape. Although it had never bothered him before, Matt couldn't help but stay awake to entrench himself in its buzz. Carefully, Matt got up from the bed, making sure not to wake Harry. Closing the door behind him, Matt made his way to get some beer from the fridge. 

Smirking to himself at what they had done, Matt relaxed on the couch. But before he could finish his sip, Matt caught on to the faintest heartbeat. Turning his head to the bedroom, Matt made sure it wasn't Harry. When he verified it wasn't, Matt narrowed his eyes and followed the sound to the door of his apartment. Looking back at where his suit lay hidden, Matt took a breath and steeled himself for whatever was on the other side.

Slowly opening the door, Matt was greeted with an accented voice he thought he'd never ever hear again.

“Hello Matthew, it's been such a long time…”

“Elektra…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, that was hot! And Elektra makes herself known to Matt! 
> 
> Writing that particular scene was tough cause despite being an actual homosexual male, I found it tough to describe sex lol.
> 
> Anyway, things are really going to start to diverge from this point, as we enter into the next arc ;) hope you enjoy it! I'm planning on trying to flesh out Foggy and Karen more, seeing as they've taken a backseat so far! As well as adding Samuel Quahog (who is actually the canon MACUSA president as of 2014 according to the HP Wiki). He's going to be around the same age as Matt if you want a reference for him. ;)


	6. Chapter 6: Lust I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger and mystery are brewing in the underbelly of Hell's Kitchen as Harry and Matt traverse a Punisher free New York. But, how long will their bliss last with Elektra now in the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this chapter, it dawned on me half way through that it was turning into filler. I kept trying to rewrite it, but I realized I had to have this chapter in order to set up a lot of the AU stuff happening later on. So, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Chapter 6: Lust I

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
 **xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

It had been so long since Harry had slept this well. Body sore from earlier in the night, Harry allowed the lull of his exhaustion to engulf his entire being. Closing his eyes, Harry waded through the weightlessness of his mind till his body felt the cool of sleep.

When he opened his eyes once again, he was no longer in a sea of black. Rather, he was sitting on a stark white bench, in an equally white replica of King's Cross Station. Looking around, he let the grogginess of sleep slip away, as he became more aware of his new surroundings. Hearing a cough at his back, he narrowed his eyes as a figure appeared behind him. Sitting on a bench was Tom Riddle, the ever-present arsehole in Harry's head.

_Merlin, what the hell does he want now? Harry thought_

“Harry… how many times do I have to remind you I can hear your thoughts, especially here in your mind. You might as well speak out loud,” Tom cockily snarked, still facing the opposite direction of Harry.

“Sorry, forgot I wasn't able to keep my thoughts to myself,” Harry angrily responded.

At that, Tom let out a small chuckle and inhaled slightly. In an instant, Harry and Tom were shifted to a singular bench. Not letting the jarring movement bother him, Harry turned his head to face Tom, as he too did the same. 

“It's a bit pathetic, don't you think? You let him defile you and suddenly everything is right as rain,” Tom said.

“What is your problem with Matt? Ever since we started dating, you've been hell bent on trying to expose some nonexistent secret he's been hiding! What is it, huh?! Are you that twisted that you want me all to yourself?” Harry practically screamed.

Narrowing his eyes, Tom took Harry's chin in his hand and forced him to stay still and silent. Tom, not letting go, began to speak. “You know as well as I do what happens when you trust too easily. Time and again… I've had to save you from the messes you get yourself into…”

~ Harry lay on the floor of the Ministry, beaten and exhausted beyond measure. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but the incessant badgering from the figure across the room put a quick end to that.

“How could you! You've betrayed us, all of us!” The ginger haired boy screamed. “You were supposed to be different! You were our hope, the light that would get rid of the dark! But all you are is just another slimy Slytherin…” 

Swallowing, Harry let his eyes wash over each and every one of the unconscious bodies that littered the floor around them. Staring back at the red head standing over him, Harry sent a deathly glare.

“I… betrayed you? Me, the one who didn't even want to be here in the first place… the one that can barely sit up while some of his 'best friends’ points their wands at him?” Harry whispered, tears spilling from his eyes as he lost control of his emotions.

“You destroyed our only weapon!” The other boy screamed. “It was supposed to be our trump card, the thing that turned the tide in this war. And now it's gone because of you!”

“There is no war! Voldemort is gone! How many times do I have to say it to you to get it to stick in that empty head of yours!” Harry answered back. “Whatever the hell that old man stuck in your head is a lie! Please, Ron… put down your wand and listen to me…” 

“No… no… I've listened to you for five fucking years, and all it's gotten me is a permanent spot in your shadow. The-Boy-Who-Loved… rubbish, nothing but Hippogriff shit. I always knew you'd be this way. The second the hat put you in Slytherin, I tried to tell everyone. They wouldn't listen, but now they'll know they should've.” Ron said, face racked with clear hysteria. 

Pointing his wand at Harry, Ron let out one last thing to his former friend, “Dumbledore will forgive me, this is for the greater good… Avada Ke-” 

Before he could finish the spell, a blinding light flew through the air and hit the boy square on the back. In an instant, the boy's entire body froze and fell over, stiff as a rock. Looking past the frozen form of Ron, Harry saw the flames of several Floo portals light up. A medley of men and women emerged from then, led by the one-person Harry was glad to see. 

“Dad…” Harry said as more tears fell. 

“It's ok, I'm here…” Voldemort, in the guise of Quirrell, said to his adopted son.

Turning back to the plethora of Ministry employees he had brought along; a righteous fury took over his face.

“Arrest that boy for attacking my son! And get these other children some healers’” he screamed, while everyone scrambled to follow his orders.

Picking up his son, he Apparated to his office in the Ministry. Setting him down in a conjured bed, Voldemort took a potion from his private cabinet and fed it to Harry. Sitting down next to him, Voldemort tried to clean up Harry's face and let him breathe for a bit.

“What happened?” ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt couldn't help but feel every positive emotion he had been feeling tonight leave his body at the appearance of his ex-lover. Anger clear on his face, he forced her out of the doorway into the hall while closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. 

Whispering as quietly as he could, he began to interrogate her. “What the hell are you doing here Elektra?”

Smiling, although she knew he wouldn't see it, Elektra tried to get close to Matt. The action was unwanted, as he shoved her away. Clearly not perturbed at his rejection, she giggled softly and took the beer out of his hands. Taking a swig, Elektra handed the bottle back almost immediately.

“German? Tastes like piss.” 

“Answer my question Elektra… What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Matt said, punctuating each word in hopes that the query was clearer this time.

“Relax Matthew! Why can't this just be a catch-up visit? Maybe I want to know if your taste in furniture has improved! Because your taste in alcohol sure hasn't!” Replied Elektra, playing along with Matt's whispering.

Seeing that he wouldn't budge, Elektra sighed and sat down on the ledge adjacent to his apartment door. 

“Would you believe me if I said I missed you? I thought I'd drop by seeing as I was in town for a meeting” Elektra said.

“Well you're not staying with me. I don't need or want to walk down memory lane with you;” Matt responded.

Elektra looked up to Matt and stared at the face she had loved so long ago, before clearing her throat and speaking. “… I've spent years trying to understand why I let you go. I tried convincing myself that it happened that way for a reason, but now I know that isn't true. It wasn't fate that drove us away from each other, it was a choice I made. A choice I regret and am here to apologize for.” 

Continuing on, Elektra stood up once more and leaned on the wall in front of Matt, “I'm all alone Matthew, I know you know how that feels,” to which Matt chuckled, “I also know that you've had to deal with the sins of your father.”

Perking up at the sudden change of subject, Matt straightened his posture. “Years ago, before my father died, he dealt with this company, Roxxon. They do energy, cleaning supplies, macaroni, child labor, slave trade; all for diversification of business. He got so mixed up with them, they hold most of his wealth.”

“Well ok, why are you here telling me this? I know you're capable of snaking your money out!” Matt responded, paying no mind to Elektra’s plight.

“I'll take the compliment. But to answer you, I already tried to. Yesterday, I successfully hacked their Japanese Branch for information, but all I found were holdings I already knew about. I couldn't track down what I needed, so I asked for a meeting with an accountant of theirs tomorrow at The Sky Garden. I need your help Matthew. I need you to put that expensive legal education of yours to-” Elektra said, before Matt cut her off.

“See I can't help you! I'm a defense lawyer-” 

“I'll pay you well!” Elektra interrupted.

“I don't want your money! Plus, there's not enough time. I would need to research, plan, examine their board hierarchy,” Matt continued on.

“Oh, come on Matthew! It's just one man in a business suit. He wouldn't see it coming. It'll be just like old times. I know you'll enjoy it!” Elektra whined.

“We have two very different definitions of fun, Elektra. And besides, you don't know me, not now… not ever. I've changed, I'm not the same starry-eyed college kid. I grew up, I made a name for myself, and I'm not gonna screw that up just to play hookie with you again!” Matt angrily responded.

“Well… that's disappointing. I hope you change your mind… if not for me now, then for what we used to be,” Elektra resigned.

“Go away Elektra,” Matt said with finality.

Sighing, Elektra heeded his tone and walked away.

When the morning came, the sun peaked out through the windows and caused Harry to groan. Sitting up in the bed, Harry realized he had awoken to an empty bed. Narrowing his eyes, Harry got up and put on a matching pair of sweatpants to his shirt. Opening the door, Harry was greeted with the sight of Matt making coffee. Grinning to himself, Harry tried his best to sneak up on Matt. However, that was foiled when Matt turned around and bear hugged him. 

Smothering him in kisses, Matt propped Harry up on the counter to continue his assault. “Mm… not that I'm unappreciative of this, but why are you up so early?” Harry asked.

“No reason just wanted to surprise you is all. Breakfast in bed, or… I guess coffee in bed,” Matt whispered into his neck.

“Well, thank you. But you should probably stop kissing me and get ready for work. I promised Karen I wouldn't make you late,” Harry laughed, to which Matt groaned and made his way to his bedroom to get ready. 

Joining him, Harry put on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve he had kept here at Matt's place for mornings like this. 

“You heading off to expand your business empire today?” Matt asked jokingly.

“No, I don't have anything planned for today,” Harry said while pressing himself to Matt's chest, “I thought I'd spend the day with you. I can sit in your office… or under your desk if you'd like… and help while you work.”

Breathe hitching, Matt lowered his hands to Harry's back. “As… amazing as the thought of you under my desk is… I don't think Foggy or Karen would appreciate us being nasty at the office.” 

“Well then I'll just play helpful assistant to everyone,” Harry sighed, backing away from Matt. With that, Harry left the room to procure his phone. Dialing it, he called Bruno to pick them up.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Walking up to the office space, Harry and Matt were leaning on each other in blissful domesticity. Opening the door, the pair were greeted by the other half of Nelson & Murdock.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here, Mr. and Mr. Murdock. Or would it be Mr. and Mr. Potter; Or! Would it be Mr. and Mr. Murdock-Potter. When you guys get married, whose name are you guys gonna use?” Foggy jokingly questioned them.

Laughing at Foggy's teasing, Matt responded while setting down his briefcase and jacket, “Well, I think Harry and Matt Murdock-Potter have a nice ring to them. What do you think Harry?”

“Hm… I like it! Doesn't screw up Nelson & Murdock and I don't have to change much but add a hyphen to my business cards!” Harry played along.

As the three guys were laughing, Karen came in with three cups of coffee and greeted them.

When her eyes landed on Harry, Karen's eyes widened, “Shit! Harry I'm so sorry for not getting you one, I didn't know you'd be coming!” 

“It's fine, I'll just make some myself,” Harry responded. Stepping back to the coffee machine, Harry decided to make some for himself. 

While Harry was out of the way, Foggy spoke to his two colleagues. “We need to come up with a plan, guys. The business kind; the kind that brings in potential clients.”

“Well, before we start that, I want to talk to you guys about this. The news is still painting him as some lunatic!” Karen said, laying down a Bulletin article on the desk. 

“You think there's more to the story?” Matt asked.

“Yes! No one is talking about his family! Or the carousel! Or his military record! Five different papers and nothing!” Karen paced.

“His family? A carousel?” Matt asked, perplexed at Karen's insistence on pursuing this.

“Um… I found this photo, and it's of Castle and his family at a carousel,” Karen said to the two.

“Where did you find it?” Matt asked her.

“I… sort of broke into his house. I know that it's illegal, and bad, and whatever. I know. But this is serious shit guys!” Karen said.

“Karen! What the hell were you thinking?!” Foggy exclaimed.

“Guys! I don't need a lecture! I know it was bad! And I swear if you guys give me one, I'll take those coffees back!” Karen responded to their worried exclamations. Scoffing, both men decided to take a sip of theirs.

“There's some shit that's going here! Something big! There's Frank, the sting, the X-ray, the cover-ups! They all circle back to Reyes! I can't just sit here and pretend I don't see what's happening!” Karen said, before apologizing for her tone.

“Come on Karen! We need to push that stuff behind us! Besides, with the way he attacked all those guys, including you and Harry, I'm pretty sure he's at least driven past crazy town. Cause he sure as hell wasn't driving to collect for the Red Cross! We've dodged enough bullets, metaphorical and real, why can't we just rest and let it go?!” Foggy argued, turning to his office to get away from the Punisher talk. 

Noticing the situation had gotten tense, Harry made his way back over to offer Karen a look sympathy. 

Karen looked at the two remaining men and sighed. “I'm sorry Harry for bringing this up, especially since you were there with me. I didn't mean to push it that far…”

Smiling at his friend, Harry tried to alleviate her frustration. “No big deal, you're just searching for the truth. It's admirable…” 

“And besides, it's not that we don't believe you about Castle,” Matt said while gesturing to Harry and himself, with Harry agreeing, “It's just that no one here wants to see you get hurt. Simple as that.”

“Holy shit!”

“Foggy, did something happen?” Karen asked.

“I just got a call from the bank!” Foggy said, nearly tripping himself trying to get out of his office.

“Oh no…” Karen immediately reacted.

“No! No, it's all good! There was actually a really big deposit into our account!” Foggy explained. At the mention of a deposit, all heads turned to Harry, who was sneaking a sip of his newly brewed coffee. 

Realizing they were looking to him for a possible explanation, Harry let the cup rest at his side and spoke. 

“After the last time I tried to pay off your guys’ lease, I swore to Matt I wouldn't try anything like that again,” Harry said, holding his arms up in a mock plea of innocence. 

Turning back, the three were trying to figure out who could've done this. That is, until Matt realized exactly who would pull such a thing, flashing back to last night. 

“Um… don't… don't spend the money Foggy!” Matt stammered, going towards his office trying to collect his jacket.

“Wait why? Is it dirty money? Are we doing that shit again!” Foggy whined.

“No… it's from a potential client. They contacted me a while ago, but I didn't know if it was going to work out. I need… I need to actually meet with them now. I'll try to get back to you when it's over,” Matt said, rushing to kiss Harry before turning to the door. “I'm sorry we couldn't spend the day together, Harry. I promise tonight we'll go out to wherever you want!” 

With that, Matt left the three remaining occupants of the office stunned.

“Um…” Foggy murmured, looking at Harry sympathetically.

Closing his eyes for a second, Harry breathed out and looked at the other two. “It's fine, it's for work and there isn't a point to mope. Not like it was bring-your-boyfriend-to-work day… In the meantime, do you guys need me to do anything? Any clients you need me to catalogue?” 

“Um… I would, if we had any clients left. They don't take too well to a closed sign, and ours has been up since the Castle mess… But, I think Matt was going to look through his files to see if we could find another case to work. So, I guess you could help look through those in his office,” Foggy said. 

Nodding, Harry walked to Matt's office and closed the door behind him. Taking a box from the corner, he placed it on the desk and began to look through the folders.

“Couldn't even go a day without sneaking away. Guess your body wasn't enough, huh Harry?” Tom said, appearing in the chair across from him. 

Not giving him the satisfaction of acknowledgement, Harry continued to sort through the numerous files. 

“Ignoring it isn't going to solve anything and working like some lowly office assistant sure as hell isn't going to do anything either. Why don't you just leave and go help out Samuel, that's much more important than some dying muggle law firm,” Tom went on.

Standing up sharply, Harry went to the blinds of the office. Ignoring the man, who he caught outside from the corner of his eye, he closed the blinds and let Foggy and Karen handle that. Taking out his wand, he cast a Silencing spell on the room and then glared at Tom.

“This 'dying firm’ happens to be run by my boyfriend and his best friend, so I'm going to do everything I can to help. That's what good people do, they help the people they care about!” Harry angrily responded.

Entering Harry's personal space, Tom put his mouth close to his ear and whispered, “Since when have either of us been 'good people’?”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I'm so sorry for cutting our meeting short the other day, Ms. Natchios. Hopefully we can sort out your investments today,” Matt overhead the man say. 

“Would you like some wine?” he continued.

“No thank you. Although, I think I'll take advantage of the bar,” Elektra responded.

Matt, listening in on the other side of the bar, panicked as Elektra moved out of her seat. He turned his head and took a sip of his drink, in a failed attempt to hide his presence.

“What did you say last night? Oh… I think it was something like 'There’s not enough time, I can't do it!’ Glad to see I really do know you,” Elektra snarked, ignoring the pout on Matt's face at his realization he'd been caught.

“Why the hell did you give us the money?” Matt asked.

“If that's what you're worried about, don't. You can keep it no matter how this goes. Since you're here though, let's make him piss his pants,” Elektra offered.

Scoffing, but relenting, Matt allowed himself to be led to the table. Surprised at the additional guest, Elektra let the accountant flounder for a bit before explaining. “This is my husband, Matthew! He's a lawyer and I called him just to make sure everything proceeds accordingly!” 

Matt tried to hold in the anger of being called Elektra’s husband as he sat down. “Hello sir, as… my wife said, I work as a lawyer. I've researched the holdings of your company, based on the information I was given by her. Now, I just want to go over some things with you, if you don't mind?” 

Smirking at the gulp and increased heart rate of the man, Matt continued to grill him. Elektra couldn't help but smirk at watching Matt do what he does best.

“Thank you so much for expanding on what you told my wife days ago. I'm sure she's more content knowing where her money is,” Matt ended after the thorough interrogation.

“Um… well… uh… t-thank you for doing business with us Ms. Natchios. I hope to see you at the gala. Um… if you'll excuse me, I think it's time I head back to work. It was nice meeting you sir! Have a nice day,” the man stammered, trying, and failing to not look fully shaken.

Matt couldn't help but grin at his handy work, before he turned to Elektra. “Happy now? You know where all your money is. Now you can leave and go bother another ex-lover. Maybe they'll fall for your shit.” 

“Matthew!” Elektra whined. “You had that man running for the hills! We should celebrate! Not argue!”

Shaking his head, Matt quickly stood up and made his way to the exit. Before he could leave, Elektra caught up to him and grabbed his hand. “Listen, we did something good today, but this isn't the end. There's more, I know there is, I just need your help to finish this. Please Matthew.”

Turning back to Elektra, Matt scrunched his face and rubbed his temple. “I can't… I can't do this. You got this far, finish it off yourself” Matt said as he walked away, with Elektra looking on silently. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“President Quahog, sir… I implore you to change your mind. Send one of us with Potter! It's too much of a risk!”

Sam wanted to scream at the Aurors who kept trying to dissuade him from this. _You'd think they'd respect my decision with all their yapping about respecting authority._

“Listen, I have a duty to not only lead the wizarding community of America, but to also uphold the Statute of Secrecy. It was my duty when I started as an Auror, and it's still my duty as the President!” Sam practically yelled at the poor Auror.

Having enough of the constant pestering, Sam sealed his office shut and tried to collect himself. Due to his inattention, Sam failed to notice the green flames that lit his fireplace.

“While I applaud your hands-on approach, I do question the reason as to why you allowed my son to get himself involved in something so inauspicious in the first place…” A very British sounding voice said behind Sam. 

Swerving around, Sam was greeted by none other than the British Minister of Magic himself, Quirinus Quirrell. 

“Hello President Quahog; may I ask why I received the news of this… debacle from the man I assigned as Harry's handler, and not you? I would've thought him coming into contact with these suspicious characters would be enough to at least warrant a fire call, hell even a simple phone call right way would have sufficed,” Voldemort said, not mincing his words in the slightest.

Despite being taken aback at the sudden appearance of the Minister, Sam was unable to hide his frustration. “I didn't know about it till yesterday, when he told me! Cut me some slack Quirrell! It's barely been twenty-four hours!”

Quirking a single eyebrow, Voldemort moved to sit down on a chair, while Sam did the same. “Well then let's hear it; What is this plan of yours?”

After a very long-winded explanation of what would go down during the gala, Voldemort sat there in rapt silence. 

What seemed like an eternity later, Voldemort finally spoke. “Is it Harry-proofed?” he asked sarcastically.

“Err… that's where I come in. I knew no one else here, but me, would be able to handle his… spontaneous nature,” Sam responded, trying not to offend the man by indirectly insulting his son.

“Yes… he does have an irksome Gryffindor streak within him. Guess he has his parents to thank for that…” Voldemort responded. Continuing, Voldemort felt the need to inform Sam of the circumstances of him being there in the first place.

“I’m not going to lie to you, the circumstances surrounding this are… troublesome. If it turns out the threat of exposure is serious, the International Confederation of Wizards may get involved.”

_Great… more complicated and annoying politics… Sam thought to himself._

“However… seeing as Harry is involved… I think it would be best to keep this situation contained.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry stared at Tom for what seemed like an eternity. Try as he might, he was unable to keep the somberness from his face. Seeing how his words had affected him, Tom's face softened as he embraced Harry. 

Tom, caressing Harry's raven hair, placed a kiss on his head before he spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

Remaining in his embrace, Harry couldn't help but feel a surreal type of comfort from Tom. He knew Tom wasn't physically there; and yet, his presence brought about a serenity that very few people could evoke in Harry. Losing himself in that feeling, Harry's mind was no longer in turmoil. That is, until a loud knocking at the door shook him from his peace. Inhaling sharply, Harry collected himself as he watched Tom fade from in front of him. Harry cancelled the silencing spell and unlocked the door, putting his wand back in its holster.

“Uh… come in!” Harry said, raising his voice.

Opening the door was Karen, bag and keys in hand. “Harry! Matt just called, he said you weren't answering so he wanted me to tell you he's heading back here soon.”

“Oh… ok. Thanks for letting me know Karen, but um… are you going somewhere?” Harry asked, eyeing the items in her hand.

“I think… I think I found something related to Castle, but I need to go out and make sure of it,” she exclaimed, uncertain yet confident. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Harry asked.

“No, you've been a big help by just doing all this grunt work,” Karen said, before realizing how bad she made it sound. “Not that we made you do this on purpose! It's just… since we haven't really had anyone on our side lately, it's nice having someone in our corner!” 

Laughing, Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Don't worry Karen, I get what you're saying. Good luck and keep safe! I don't think any of us would be ok if you got hurt!” 

Smiling at the thought of finally having people care about her, Karen waved goodbye and left through the door. 

“Where's she headed off to?” Foggy yelled from his office.

Walking out and over to him, Harry leaned on the door frame and faced the sweet blonde. 

“She said she wanted to follow up on some evidence that had to do with Frank Castle,” Harry answered.

Sighing, Foggy let his face fall into his palms in a manner that displayed his obvious discontent. “I don't know why she's so hellbent on chasing these leads! First she takes some x-ray and chases down Frank Castle’s former nurse; Then, she just up and disappears for the entire day!”

“Where the hell did she get this x-ray from? And what was even on it?” Harry asked the man. 

“Apparently Towers slipped it into the files she brought over to the DA’s office. God… Harry it was Frank Castle's head with a bullet through it! This shit is too much, way too much!” Foggy dejected.

Widening his eyes, Harry was completely caught off guard at this new revelation. _These muggles and their fucking weirdos! It's like they just shit these people out by the day. First it's that Devil guy, then it's some weird lady, and now it's a gun toting psycho._

A bang at the door startled both of them. Looking back, both were met with the sight of a clearly irritated Matt. Roughly taking off his jacket, Matt walked up to the pair.

“I'm guessing it didn't go well?” Harry asked, as he walked over to hug him.

“No, it went well, but… the client, she wants to meet with me again. I… I don't know if I should do it. We need the money, but the stuff she wanted me to deal with… I don't know if I can handle it. It's all this corporate stuff, and honestly Harry, you'd probably be way more qualified for this than me,” Matt said in his long-winded explanation. 

Raising an eyebrow at the information he had just received, he nearly commented his opinion until Foggy let his be known first. 

“Hey bud, if you don't think it's right then don't! We already have Karen out there chasing breadcrumbs, I don't think we could survive you being out of the game too. We could always just try and get new clients!” Foggy said, trying to be as optimistic as possible to cheer up his best friend. 

Half smiling at his friend’s attempt, Matt then shifted his focus to his boyfriend in front of him. Dragging him to his side of the office, Matt ignored Foggy's teasing and shut the door and blinds. 

“So, what'd you do while I was gone?” Matt asked.

“I just… looked over some of your client profiles, to see if anyone was still willing to hire you guys,” Harry replied in a hollow voice.

Frowning at the weird vibe he was getting from Harry, he sat the two of them on his chair so that Harry would be straddling his lap. Bringing his hands to Harry's face, Matt rubbed circles on his cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Did something happen? You sound off,” Matt said gently.

Cursing in his head that Matt was able to read him, Harry tried to put up a front. “It's nothing, just tired from today. And, I missed you!” 

Not believing him for a second, Matt decided to let it go. _He'll tell me when he wants to, no point in pushing for an answer._

“Anyway, I was thinking that since you said I could decide where we go tonight, I should bring you to this place by my penthouse in midtown. I know you're not fond of expensive stuff, but I thought it would be fun. Plus, I know the chef there, so I'm sure he could whip us up some cool dishes!” Harry cheerfully gushed. 

Smiling at the thought of a normal evening, Matt couldn't help but steal a kiss before answering. “That sounds amazing. I can't wait.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Beep. Beep. It was maddening, really, that all that could be heard in this room was the beeping of a heart monitor. Laying in an empty room, bar necessary medical equipment, was Frank Castle. Face bruised and cut up, he truly fit the part of the deranged killer. And standing across the room from him was the 'shining knight’ that would bring this man to justice, Samantha Reyes. 

Staring at the man, no… staring at her biggest mistake, Reyes sneered. “If only I could pull the plug right now. It's a hell of a lot more dignified than you deserve.” 

Foolishly waiting for a response that would never come, Reyes walked to the door and attempted to leave. However, to her utter bafflement, the doorknob would not budge. Panicking, Reyes banged on the door to try and get the attention on the guards outside.

“Where are you going? You know, it's rude to ignore people…” a figure said behind her.

Slowly turning around, Reyes was met with a hooded figure, holding some type of stick in their hand. Before she could shout for help, the figure seemingly teleported across the room to her, putting its hand on her mouth. 

“Now, now… can't have you walking up sleepy head over there,” the voice said, becoming more identifiably deranged as it spoke. 

“Hmm… Silencio! Incarcerous!” The figure said, pointing the stick towards Reyes.

Reyes then found herself unable to make a sound, with her body wrapped up in a thick rope that seemingly appeared from nowhere. Tears filled her eyes as the figure roughly plucked a piece of her hair, placing it in some flask. The figure stood up and drank whatever was in it. After a bizarre display of writhing and bending, the figure squatted back down to eye level with her. 

Pointing the stick at her head this time, the figure took off its hood. “Sorry about this, but I'm going to have to borrow all of the secrets you've hid in that muggle head of yours!” It said, cackling at her expression.

Reyes tried to scream, but no sound came from her mouth. Her eyes widened as she wasn't faced with a random man, nor a woman, but… herself. It was as if she was looking into a demented mirror, her own face smiling and cackling at her expression of pure horror.

“Enough of that! Now, stay still and this will only hurt a bit!” The fake Reyes said, before jamming the stick into the original’s temple.

“Legilimens!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who that could be ಠ_ಠ ... I just wanna say sorry for the wait. I've been lacking in motivation, but I was finally able to get in the groove yesterday. Anyway, hope you guys look forward to the next chapter! SPOILER: Harry and Matt go on a date! And then shit hits the fan ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. Chapter 7: Lust II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of romance between Harry and Matt turns to chaos for one of them. Has a flame been reignited? Or has Matt's heart moved on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long ass time to crunch out :/ Sorry <3 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has some action, romance, and ooey gooey plot-ness! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, these characters/places/names all belong to their rightful owner!

Chapter 7: Lust II

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
 **xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

“So, where are we going exactly?” Matt asked Harry as they sat in the backseat of the car.

“It's a really low-key place and usually very selective of guests, but I know some people, so they'll let us in! But that's all I'm gonna tell you!” Harry playfully said.

Smirking at his boyfriend's giddy tone, Matt leaned back into the seat. Letting his mind wander, Matt's enhanced senses picked up on the steady heartbeat next to him. Being next to someone who's heart wasn't going a mile a minute was beginning to feel like a rarity lately.

A gradual halt alerted him that they were at their destination. Harry exited the car first, opening the door for Matt on the other side. Once they were out, Harry gave Bruno a farewell wave and dragged Matt over to what seemed like an alley, if the echoes he was hearing were right. 

“Now, I know you can probably smell all the shit in this alley, but I promise you this place is the best!” Harry said, getting giddier by the second. 

After about a ten second walk, Matt was stopped by Harry who guided him to a short stairwell. _That's bizarre, I can't hear anything from here, Matt thought to himself._

The only sounds he could discern were the traffic noises of the streets and the pitter patter of the typical New York vermin; that is, until he heard Harry knock on some sort of door. 

Furrowing his brow, Matt realized Harry had left his side to talk to someone. Listening in, Matt was surprised that much of what he was hearing was being muffled. 

“... -ggle! We'll take… private dining…! And could you… Gnar for me?! Let him… I'm here!” Matt could barely hear Harry whisper to whoever was on the other side. 

Harry turned back to Matt and was dismayed at the pout that had made itself known on Matt's face.

“Hey… are you ok Matt? What's wrong?” Harry asked worryingly.

“Um… it's… it's nothing,” Matt lamely said to try and save face.

Their short exchange was halted when what sounded like a door was thrust open behind them. “Come in! Come in! Welcome to The Blind Pig!” A man with a deep voice said, ushering the two inside. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Guided by Harry, Matt was led to a table a bit away from the cacophony of voices. “Sorry to say, but Gnar's swamped with orders, Harry! He can't come out, but he said to order whatever drinks you'd like, it's on the house!” The man said in a New York accent.

With the man hunkering off, Matt was able to focus on his surroundings. The muffling from earlier was completely gone, being replaced by crystal clear conversations. Mundane topics like sports or the stock market flitted through the establishment; however, Matt would occasionally hear strange phrases peppered throughout. 

“So, what do you want to drink? They have a lot to choose from. There's wine, beer, cocktails, vodka, bourbon… whatever you want really,” Harry quickly said, interrupting Matt's eavesdropping. 

Focusing back on his boyfriend, Matt smiled at the slightly rushed speed Harry was explaining the drinking options to him. “You know I don't normally drink anything that isn't served at Josie's, so you should choose for me. I trust your taste in alcohol!” Matt joked to Harry.

Laughing, Harry made note of Matt's choice and asked the wizard server for two butterbeers. When he left to get them, Harry looked at the menu and read some of his favorites to Matt. When the server arrived and placed their butterbeers down, Harry had ordered for the both of them.

“So, how'd you find this place Harry?” Matt asked.

“Well, a friend actually recommend it to me. He said its history and food made it one of the best places in New York. Plus, the whole hidden gem aspect doesn't hurt,” Harry explained.

“History?”

“Yeah, it used to be a… what was the term again? Err… speakeasy! Apparently, gangsters used to hang out here and partake in nefarious dealings. It used to actually be really small according to him, before they renovated it,” Harry furthered, omitting the magical parts of its history. 

“Gangsters huh? Sounds like the kind of place we would've gotten some clients. Maybe we can get some here!” Matt jested. 

Harry laughed at Matt's adorable sense of humor. A few more jokes, and a couple of kisses, were dished out before their food had finally arrived. Licking his lips, Harry prepared himself for what he knew was going to be an incredible meal.

“Here we go sirs! Phoenix Steak! Enjoy!” The server said, bowing out to leave them to the food.

“Harry, not that my mouth isn't watering and that this smells delicious, but why is it called 'Phoenix Steak’?” Matt asked before he dug in.

“Because the steak was cooked over the flames of a dying phoenix,” Harry said with a very straight tone before bursting into laughter once again. 

“Wow, I totally almost believed you!” Matt said sarcastically.

Harry couldn't help but let out a giggle at the irony of Matt's dismissal. _It may not have been cooked over the flames of a dying phoenix, but it was sure as hell cooked over the ashes of one, Harry thought before digging into his food._

“Hey Harry?” Matt asked.

“Yeah?”

“What's this place like? I just… can't wrap my head around a place hidden in a back alley serving this kind of food,” Matt responded.

“Well, if I'm being honest, the look of this place isn't too much to be excited about. The walls are still the same beaten-up brick as decades ago. Hell, even the people that come here haven't changed much. Gnar, who runs this place, his grandfather used to be the big bad mob boss here,” Harry said, voice becoming more wistful as he went on. “All that's really changed are the size and what the assholes here are carrying.”

“But…” Harry said, pausing as if contemplating something, “the atmosphere here is one of a kind. The lights may be dingy, but the way they cast their light in here gives it a homely feel. And everyone knows at least one other person here. It's… safe in a way. Well, it makes me feel safe,” Harry said, smiling at no one in particular.

“It must be hard to feel safe, especially in New York,” Matt said in a somber tone.

“I mean you do have psycho rampages every other week, some sort of invasion a year, and superpowered people who run around in costumes around every corner.” Harry said jokingly, earning a chuckle from Matt. “But… there are people like the Avengers, or… the Devil of Hell's Kitchen… who make it safer.”

“You think the Devil makes it safer?” Matt asked, trying to see how Harry felt about his alter ego.

“Well yes, I mean it's not like he's ever gone around and beat up old ladies. I've never seen him in person, but from what all these people he's helped are saying, he seems like a great guy. Kind of like you!” Harry said, half-heartedly joking at the end. 

“I remind you of Daredevil?” Matt asked, amused by the irony of the conversation. 

“You both help people, especially those who don't have the power to help themselves,” Harry said with a soft smile on his face, before continuing, “besides, I'm sure you could pull it off Matt, you have the body for it!” 

Matt couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably. While joining in the fun, Harry couldn't help but revel in how perfect the night had gone. _We haven't gone out like this in months, Harry thought cheerily._

After their laughing fit, the two finished their food and paid for the meal. “Hey Harry, next time call before you come in! Gnar hasn't seen you since you came here with Sammy!” The waiter said as they left, with Harry agreeing to call the owner next time.

“How about we just walk to your place…” Matt said before Harry could fish out his phone. 

Not even hesitating, Harry wrapped his arms Matt and leaned into him, walking in step with him. As they walked, the glow of the high-rise buildings, street lights, and passing cars illuminated their path. Strolling at a snail's pace, the two eventually made it to the entrance to Harry's building. 

Moving his arms to around his neck, Harry closed in and gently pressed his lips over Matt's. Getting the message, Matt tightened his hold and deepened the kiss. They stayed in tandem with each other's movements for what seemed like an eternity before a cough from behind them jolted them apart.

“Ahem… I apologize for the interruption, but I don't think it would be very appropriate for the two of you to… embrace each other in front of the doorway,” a voice, Bruno they realized, said.

“You want to take this up to my suite? We never really visit here… together much,” Harry said huskily.

“I… think we should call it a night. It's been so amazing… I don't want to ruin it. I want to remember it like this, just a perfect night with you…” Matt whispered in his ears.

Snorting, Harry laid one last kiss on Matt before separating their bodies completely. 

“It's always pleasant seeing you Mr. Murdock. I would say goodbye, but I will most likely see you in the near future; so, goodnight, and see you in the morning,” Bruno said before walking back inside, Harry following him while taking one last glance at Matt.

“You sure you'll be ok getting home? I could get Bruno to take you,” Harry offered.

“I know New York like the back of my hand, I'll be fine,” Matt said, sending a reassuring smile to Harry before he went inside.

Matt grinned widely to himself as he walked off towards his loft. With a bounce in his step, Matt was blissfully unaware of the goings-on around him. But, just as most things in his life, his mood was ruined at the revving of a familiar car engine behind him. Turning around, a frown made its way to his face as he recognized the person who had shown up.

“Elektra…” Matt said, disappointment and anger lacing his tone. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Hello Matthew. Did you enjoy your date? You should've told me you were into men as well; we could've had much more fun in college,” Elektra snarked.

It took every ounce of willpower in Matt to not walk away. He knew she never did anything if there wasn't a reason for it. So, he waited silently for Elektra to get the message and explain herself.

“Get in the car Matthew, we have a lot to discuss,” Elektra motioned, with the click of the car door letting Matt know she had indeed opened it up to him. 

“Why the hell should I go anywhere with you? You know what… I've spent too much time on you, so just drive away in your expensive car and leave me alone!” Matt ordered.

Scoffing, Elektra rolled her eyes and turned on what seemed to be some sort of radio. As soon as the dial was turned, voices speaking in Japanese could be heard. Matt couldn't help but come closer to hear what was going on.

“What are they saying, Elektra?” Matt pushed.

Looking up at Matt, Elektra patted something on the seat beside her, knowing he would hear it. “Unless you want to have the Yakuza on your boyfriend's doorstep, I'd suggest getting in now!” Elektra said with urgency. 

“What the hell do you mean by Yakuza? Elektra what did you do?” Matt practically yelled. 

“Matthew darling, I know you're pretty, but don't play the bimbo! Get. In!” Elektra said, voice raised.

Matt clicked his teeth, not knowing what to do. His indecision was met with a grunt from Elektra, who increased the volume on the radio. 

“Tick tock Matthew…” Elektra snipped. 

Matt's brain was scrambling to try and make up his mind. Realizing there wasn't another option, Matt begrudgingly got inside the car and let himself be whisked away. As they sped off, Matt found the time to feel what he had realized was some sort of bag. 

“I brought you a present Matthew…” Elektra mysteriously said. 

Unzipping the bag, Matt was stunned to find it contained his suit. His heart and mind were going a mile a minute trying to figure out how she had known in the first place. His thoughts were halted though, as Elektra had stopped the car.

“I would suggest getting changed quickly, they'll be here any minute now,” Elektra said, though her voiced seemed to be muffled by some sort of cover.

“Where the hell is 'here’? And more importantly, how the hell did you know about this?” Matt said, holding out his suit to her.

Not even bothering to answer him, Elektra walked away into a factory like building. Letting out a frustrated breath, Matt undressed and put on his Daredevil suit.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry was on cloud nine as he made his way up to his penthouse. Exiting the elevator, Harry practically floated with the high he was feeling. Closing the door behind him, Harry made his way to the bedroom to get changed. Throwing his clothes to the side, he put on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“You seem to be completely ecstatic, I take it your night out went well?” A voice behind him said.

Harry grabbed his wand and spun around, with a spell on his tongue, until he realized who had spoken. Dropping his wand, Harry made his way over to the man and hugged him.

“Dad…” Harry whispered into his father's chest, making sure to show his affection with a tight hug.

Patting his head, Voldemort allowed for Harry to hold onto him for a bit. Separating after a minute of hugging, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at his childish reaction.

“I missed you,” Harry said.

Giving a halfhearted chuckle, Voldemort looked his adopted son in the eye. “Really? Because if you did indeed miss me, you would have contacted me about this… situation you've gotten yourself into.”

_Oh fuck, Harry thought._

“How the hell did yo- it was Bruno, wasn't it?” Harry sighed.

“It should've been you,” Voldemort responded seriously. 

Harry sat down and poured himself a cup of fire whiskey. Taking a big gulp, Harry coughed and set it down. “I'm… sorry, I know I should've told you-”

“Really Harry? 'I should've’ doesn't cut it for something like this! This brash behavior is dangerous in this climate! Now the International Confederation are poised to get involved should this go awry!” Voldemort hissed, nearly slipping into Parseltongue. 

“Why- how did they find out about it? It's only been a few days!?” Harry said, bewildered at the information.

“It's the International Confederation… you're lucky they didn't find out the second Bruno fire called me!” Voldemort responded.

“Shit… shit!” Harry said, frustrated. 

“Luckily, that… imbecile Quahog and I have developed a plan that's even You-Proofed. We'll gather a small team to lend support. I've already chosen on our side of things. The people I've chosen will meet up with you the day of and they'll lay the rest out for you,” Voldemort explained, going into further detail as well.

“Now that we've laid our business on the table, why don't you tell me about this beau of yours…” Voldemort said, smirking at Harry's blush. 

“Well… uh… he's…” Harry began to say before his phone rang. Silently thanking Merlin for whoever it was, he answered.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt crouched in the shadows of the rafters that lined the upper level of the factory building. Homing in on the surrounding area, Matt picked up on the aggressive hum of motorcycles. Turning to where Elektra was hiding, he signaled to her that they were near.

After a slight readjustment of positions, Matt and Elektra waited till they heard the hushed voices of the Japanese assailants. Jumping off with the grace of a cat, both Matt and Elektra were able to take down two of them silently. Their stealthy maneuvering was halted by one of the men spotting them. Realizing they had no choice, the two trained fighters went all out, managing to defeat all but one.

The last remaining enemy narrowed his eyes at the two, grinding his teeth in realization that he was out matched. Taking out some sort of bead, the man threw it to the ground, creating a cloud of smoke. Though Elektra was caught off guard and momentarily incapacitated, Matt was able to stay focused. Honing his senses, he was able to track the movement of the man. 

Aiming in the direction of the entrance, Matt threw his baton with incredible force. Thankfully, Matt was greeted by the sound of the man hitting the ground, heart rate indicating he had been knocked out. When the smoke cleared, metaphorically and literally, Elektra took it upon herself to restrain their now downed opponents. 

“We need to call the police,” Matt stated, not even bothering to add any sort of emotion.

“Good idea, I'll go call while you watch them,” Elektra said sarcastically before heading over to her car to carry out Matt's order. 

After a short call to the NYPD, Matt heard Elektra start her car once more. “If you want to deliver them in person, by all means go ahead; but, when you're done, I expect a visit. Unless you want to come now!” 

_No point in trying to figure out shit here, Matt thought._

Begrudgingly, Matt got into her car and began stripping his suit. Despite his lack of vision, he could feel the glances Elektra cast his way. When they stopped, Matt reasoned they were in some sort of underground car garage. His hypothesis was vindicated when Elektra led him to some sort of elevator surrounded by cement. 

“Now's the time to start explaining, Elektra…” Matt said seriously. 

Letting out a light giggle, Elektra didn't answer. Instead, she stayed completely silent, even when the elevator dinged to what Matt presumed was her loft. Throwing the bag containing his suit haphazardly on the floor, Matt practically marched towards her. Grabbing her in his two hands, Matt squeezed with some force before uttering a word to her. 

“I want you to explain everything that's going on. Right. Now. No bullshit, no lies, no nothing! I want answers!” Matt whispered with deadly intent laced into each word.

“Well where do you want me to begin?” Elektra responded lightly, as if Matt's earlier harshness meant nothing. 

“How about we start with how you knew? About the suit… about me?” Matt asked.

Escaping Matt's sturdy clutches, Elektra made her way to what smelled like alcohol. Pouring herself a drink, she sat on a stool and made herself comfortable. “I watch the news, darling! 'The successful apprehension of Wilson Fisk spearheaded by the Devil of Hell's Kitchen’; it's not that hard to connect the dots when you know the whole picture!” 

“How the hell would you be able to know though? I wear a mask!” Matt responded.

“You can't mask that ass, Matt! I'd know it anywhere. I've seen it enough times, with and without clothing, to recognize it. Also, have you been working out? You look good! I'm sure your little boyfriend really appreciates the extra muscle you've put on,” Elektra complimented. 

Stepping closer to her, Matt couldn't help but snarl at the mention of Harry. “How the hell did you even know about the Yakuza coming after Harry? And how the hell did you even know about him? Us?” 

“Well, to your first question: he was the only other non-Roxxon person in the building when I hacked their system. I took a wild guess at who'd they go for; turns out, they wanted a go at green-eyes. They never suspected the poor damsel in distress! Well, that is until I tagged one of them, purposefully obvious,” Elektra said. 

Continuing, she answered his second question. “And in regard to Harry, well… you really chose a keeper. Such a sweetheart, introducing himself to the nervous but headstrong businesswoman waiting in the lobby across from him. Such a pretty face and accent, I see you have a type Matthew.” 

Thinking, Matt tried to formulate some kind of stable map of events to try and rationalize this mess. It wasn't until a flashback to the last time he saw her in his college days that he realized what Elektra had done. “You knew… even then, you knew all this shit would happen. You probably set it up… Getting me involved, getting Harry involved, getting the suit involved; you planned it! Just like back then with Sweeney…” 

“Now Matthew, you're giving me way too much credit! Sure, I knew about your suit beforehand, but I didn't plan on meeting your lover that day nor did I plan on getting the Yakuza involved! All I knew was that Roxxon had ties to crime, a fact that was cemented when the Yakuza came knocking on my door,” Elektra responded. 

“You know what? How the hell are the Yakuza even still around? I thought I took care of them when I got rid of Fisk!” Matt questioned.

“Nope,” she said, popping the 'P’ sound, “all you did was beat them into hibernation. Since you got rid of all their enemies, they've started to rebuild their empire.” 

Rubbing his temples, Matt couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. “Then what's the play here Elektra? You didn’t go to these lengths just to team up against the Yakuza… what's the end game here? What are you trying to do?” 

“Like I said at The Sky Garden; there's more than just hidden funds and paper trails. There's something bigger going on and I need your help to find out what. You may know how to follow through on your punches, but you don't know have the information I do,” Elektra said. 

“So, what do you propose then? We team up? I know I told you this the first time, but I'll say it again: I have a life, things, and people I care about. I can't just drop that to fight your battles,” Matt responded to her. 

“What isn't getting through your head Matthew? The Yakuza are on the hunt for the people, me and now you, who crossed them. You keep trying to get out of this! What's to say that they won't start looking at Harry again?” Elektra suggested.

“Are- are you blackmailing me? Using Harry to try and get me to play your little cat and mouse game with Roxxon?” Matt harshly bit out.

“No, I'm being realistic. I thought you'd be as well since you've fought them before. But, if you do want to go there, then think about this: you know I can take care of myself. I go at this without you, I can fight as fiercely as I can press them in a suit. Now, can Harry say the same? I'm sure he can deal like nobody's business, but can he defend himself should you be off helping an old lady cross the street?” Elektra said, taking a sip once she finished.

Matt sat there silently, pondering her assessment of the situation. _She's… she's right. I can't defend Harry from this and keep the city safe._

Letting out a sigh, Matt grabbed the drink from Elektra's hand and drank from it. Setting it down, he gave her an ultimatum. “We do this… we go at this together, then I'm going to need you to promise me two things: One, we keep this away from Harry; and two, nobody dies. I have morals and I'm going to need you to pretend you have them too.”

Chuckling, Elektra cocked her head and stared at Matt. “That's it? Well ok then. But, I have a rule of my own: we keep this professional. No emotions, no feelings, no sex.” 

“You… have a pair on you! If you didn't understand the entire first part of this discussion, I'm with Harry. I'd never sleep with you! Not every man you meet wants to” Matt hastily replied.

Elektra didn't respond, instead choosing to drain the last of the alcohol in her cup. _For now, but I know you… the thrill, the addiction, the passion. Even after all the years, I wasn’t able to let it go. And now I know you couldn't either. You could've walked away, but you didn't… couldn't, Elektra thought._

“Well, then I guess that's a deal. Now, how about I drive us to this little diner near here for some breakfast. Then I can drop you off at your office,” Elektra said, getting up to grab the keys she had set earlier in the evening. 

Startled, Matt was able to stop focusing on her and instead feel his surroundings. Namely, the heat of the sun that shown through her windows. We've been at this for that long… Matt thought.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry scrunched his nose, feeling something tickling it. Turning over in his covers, Harry felt a sharp pinch on his exposed ear. Harry was getting annoyed, so he sat up rather quickly, hitting his head on something soft. After searching for his glasses, Harry was able to focus on what was in front of him.

“Hedwig!” Harry exclaimed, getting up to pet his beloved owl. Hedwig seemed annoyed at Harry for not recognizing her immediately, so she affectionately pecked at his finger. Their reunion was cut short when Harry felt something big shift over his legs. Removing the covers, he discovered a familiar giant snake.

**“Hatchling, I'm here too! Why did you not greet me like you greeted that flying nuisance!” Nagini hissed.**

As if she had heard the snake, Hedwig aggressively chased Nagini, who had slithered off of Harry to avoid her. Laughing at the two animals, Harry wasn't aware of the man at his door. Startled by a cough, Harry looked over and saw his father standing there.

“When did they get here? I didn't see you bring them last night!” Harry said.

“I had them Portkey’d here after you went to bed. They seemed to have enough cognizance to keep you out of trouble at home, so I thought they would help here,” Voldemort said with a neutral tone. 

Harry smiled, before looking at his clock with panicked eyes. “Shit! I have to go to Matt's office!”

Harry grabbed his wand and waved it, causing his clothes to fly out of the closet and onto his bed. Slamming the door of his bathroom, Harry quickly showered. 

Running around like a madman, Harry was barely presentable. Before he could leave his room, his father stopped him in his tracks. 

“Wha-” Harry tried to say, before his father grabbed the collars of his shirt and laid them down properly. 

Smiling, Harry hugged him before he launched out the door and to his private elevator.

“You'll have to be at the Ministry building at 5 PM sharp to prepare. You'll be meeting the team before you go to that gala.” 

“I won't be late, promise!” Harry quickly yelled as the elevator doors closed.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

The drive to Foggy and Matt's office was calming. The familiarity of the trip was a welcome routine to his rather hectic life. Coming to a halt, Bruno parked the car across the road from the office. But, before Harry got out, he noticed a very nice-looking car right in front. 

Tilting his head, Harry's confusion was short lived when Matt stepped out of the car, driven by some woman he couldn't make out. His head was spinning at the possible scenarios for why he would be with someone this early. His frantic thoughts were interrupted by the click of the door, letting him know Bruno had unlocked it. 

“You know better than anyone not to assume things at first glance,” Bruno wisely said.

Staring back, Harry didn't even bother hiding the dread he was feeling at this very moment. After a reassuring smile from Bruno, Harry braced himself as he exited the car and walked over. As he crossed the street, the mysterious car zoomed past him. 

“Harry why are you here early?!” He heard Matt say, his voice seemed to be somewhat strained.

Harry was cast out of his temporary stupor by Matt's voice. Walking over to him, Harry tried to smile, but couldn't muster the energy to do so.

“You ok Harry?” Matt said, homing in on Harry's obvious discomfort.

“Who was that? The car you just got out of?” Harry asked, getting straight to the point. 

Sensing the thin ice he was on, Matt made sure to choose his next words carefully. “A friend from college, actually. She was in the area while I was making my way over here. We grabbed some coffee at a diner a few streets over.”

“Oh, ok. I'm sorry… I think I jumped to a very uncomfortable conclusion…” Harry shot back, completely unconvinced of Matt's explanation.

“Oh God, Harry no! I… I wouldn't do that to you! Don't ever think I'd betray you!” Matt said, trying to comfort his distraught lover. Instead of answering, Harry offered a shaky smile. 

The pair walked together, an uncomfortable silence filling the air as they made their way to the office. Nearing the door, Harry could hear Karen, Foggy, and an unknown third voice.

Opening the door, the two were quickly introduced to the public defender assigned to Frank Castle's case, Christopher Roth.

“Oh! Mr. Potter, I'm glad you're here! If you could just look over this statement I drew up, we'll be able to get on with this show!” Roth said.

“Of course,” Harry said as he sat down next to Karen. Looking over at his friend, Harry saw her make a face that told him all he needed to know about the guy and the paper he'd been handed. Reading through the statement, Harry was utterly baffled at the number of false claims and omissions.

_‘The two witnesses were pursued by the lone gunman on foot?’ 'Castle physically assaulted the pair; the male witness injured while defending the female?’ What is this utter shite? Harry thought._

“Um… I'm sorry but none of this matches what I told the officers in my statement,” Harry said, earning a matching complaint from his strawberry blonde companion. 

“Sir, ma'am… I really do suggest you look over these again. DA Reyes is working very hard to ensure this evil man can never hurt anyone again! If you don't comply, you'll just be making it harder for everyone!” Roth proclaimed.

“Excuse me? We aren't trying to 'make it harder’, we're trying to make sure what's being put out there is the truth!” Karen angrily said to the man, who cowered slightly.

“Listen… DA Reyes is this close to putting the final nail in his coffin. Let her do her job, allow me to do my job, and that'll make doing your jobs much easier!” The man shakily replied.

“Final nail?” Matt said behind the group. 

“There’s ample evidence that suggests Castle was responsible for the deaths of several members of the Dogs of Hell in Delaware. All she has to do is the link it to him and they'll be well within their rights to extradite him. Reyes is pushing for the death penalty!” Roth confidently said, a disturbing reverence in his voice for Reyes.

“Well then I guess she'll have to pull that off before either of us sign these. Call us when you actually get our statements right!” Karen sassily remarked. 

Huffing, Roth angrily stomped out of the office while the group looked at each other.

“Was that statement he gave you as bullshit as mine, Harry?” Karen asked, getting up from her seat to work off her frustration. 

“Yup.”

“How much money do you want to bet on those being handcrafted by Reyes herself?” Karen snarked.

“Then maybe we should write an anonymous letter to the judge? I mean it's our best shot at getting her off the case,” Foggy suggested.

“Or we could do it ourselves…” Matt offered behind them, to the bewildered looks of Harry and Foggy.

“If we do it ourselves, it'd be a big fuck you to Reyes; we would save Castle's life and find out what the hell her deal is with this case!” Karen said.

“No, no, no! Guys, do you understand the shit you're trying to get us into? And why should we try to help save him? He tried to kill thr- two people in this room!” Foggy argued, “c'mon Harry, you're with me on this right?!”

Looking between the two sides, he bit the inside of his cheek. “I'm with Foggy, you'd be playing with too much fire. What happens when Reyes bites back?”

“Harry! This is someone's life on the line. We can't just let some bully push us into a corner. We have to take this case and save Frank's life! Plus, we can show her that our justice system still has a backbone!” Matt tried to convince Harry and Foggy.

“Matt!” Foggy suddenly said.

Harry made a sympathetic face to Matt, not trying to get between the two. Sensing an intense argument coming, Karen grabbed Harry and ushered him out to allow them to talk. 

“They looked like they needed to talk about something…” Karen sighed. 

“Haven't we been through this before? I remember this exact situation happening at Josie's a while ago,” Harry asked, eyebrow quirking up.

Snorting, Karen nodded her head. “You know how they are…” 

“Anyway, how do you feel about this? I know you said you weren't on board with us helping Castle, but…” Karen continued.

“I think that it's… admirable that you both want to help. And I do believe everyone deserves a second chance… but…” Harry spoke, trailing off at the end. 

“… but he's a psycho murderer,” Karen seemingly finished for him. 

“I just think that-” Harry tried to say, before a knock at the door interrupted the two's conversation.

With a confused look, Karen got up from where she had been conversing with Harry and made her way to the door. Coincidentally, it seemed as though Matt and Foggy had finished their conversation right when Karen stood up. Both men looked at Harry before peeking from the room. Opening the door, Karen was met with a finely dressed man.

“Hello, miss, I was wondering if Harry Potter was around?” 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

It was tortuous, really. The way he was made to wait in the worst possible circumstances. Run down walls, polluted puddles laid out on the ground, and worst of all: having to be in the guise of a muggle woman. It was truly an insult to the blood that ran through his veins.

“It took you long enough you vagrant. I would've gone on a damn rampage if you would've been any later…” the man, rather the woman now, said to the other occupant in the factory.

“You Brits always resort to killing and acting crazy… never settle for normal shit. But I guess that's part of the charm,” the man clad in black said to the other. “So, did you do what I asked?”

“Yes, although even with this woman's knowledge, I still don't understand muggle law. How is using the Imperius Curse on some public defender going to help us get what we want?” The Reyes doppelganger asked.

“Simple really, isolation. Get those he surrounds himself with away from him. Leave him all alone and he'll be ripe for the taking,” the man said with a feral grin on his face.

“This will anger him, I hope you know that. Moving against him while he has that dog of his chasing around the other one,” the copy said. “The fact that there are two this developed in the first place, let alone in such close proximity to each other…”

“All the more reason that we need to act soon. They see him as their spare for now, but with the rate the girl is going, they may shift their focus onto him. I want to make sure he's ours before then…” 

“We've already acquired the plans for that sting with one of their puppet organizations. We'll move in then,” the copy said.

“Good… good… well, you should probably get back to playing your part. If all goes according to plan, you should be seeing them at the hospital soon,” the man huffed out, gravelly voice grating on the ears of the copycat. With a pop, the copycat vanished from the factory floor, leaving the man alone.

“Soon… I'll fix you and make you perfect…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder if you guys are starting to get who's in play and what's going on in the overall plot of this story ;) Thanks for reading as always! And if you want to leave a comment, go ahead! But don't be an asshole!
> 
> Also to note if I did a shitty job explaining it, Voldemort has fully taken over Quirrell (i.e. he looks like him, talks like him, uses his wand, etc.) so everyone just sees him as Quirrell.


	8. Chapter 8: Lust III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set into motion as Nelson & Murdock gear up to take on DA Reyes and Castle's case. Meanwhile, Harry meets an old face and prepares for his own battle. While these two walk parallel paths, their obstacles may push them to converge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooooooooooooo sorry for how late this is! I am just staring my third year in college, so these last weeks have been so hectic! BUT, I made sure to make this chapter extra juicy to make up for it! An old face from the HP world is coming! (I'm sure you can guess by the tags though XD) and fake 'Reyes' is here to stir shit up. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it, and as always I don't own anything except for the AU portions!

Chapter 8: Lust III

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
**xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background 

 

“Hello, I was wondering if Harry Potter was around?” 

Harry stared anxiously at the man that stood in the entrance way of the office. He couldn't believe that he would be anywhere near New York, let alone an office inside a muggle complex. Karen, Matt and Foggy looked towards him to try and see if he knew who was at the door. 

Seeing that he was just as stunned as the rest of them, Karen tried to take control of the situation. “Um… who's looking, exactly?” Karen tried to question. 

Rudely, the man ignored her entirely and bumped shoulders with her, trying to get in. Seeing, and hearing, Karen be pushed, both Foggy and Matt shuffled out of their room to confront the man.

“Hey, buddy, lay of-” Foggy tried to say, before Harry beat him to it by rushing the guy and slapping him across the face.

Flabbergasted, the man stood there rubbing his face while Harry glared at him. “What the hell was that for? She didn't do anything, and you acted like an arsehole!” 

“Well, I wouldn’t need to be here if you didn’t occupy your time by spending it in this run down building!!” The man replied, seemingly puffing up his chest in some bizarre display of superiority.

“Hey!” Foggy yelled over the two arguing, “listen guy, I don't know who you are, but you have no business coming in our office and acting like that. So please, and let me tell you how hard it is saying that word to someone like you, either explain why you're here or get out!” 

Grumbling incoherently, the man scoffed and looked at Harry expectedly. Seeing Harry cross his arms, the man realized he would probably have to apologize for today to go somewhat his way. 

The man turned towards Karen, who was looking every bit the strong woman her escapades against the Punisher proved her to be and extended a hand out. “I… apologize for my transgression moments ago. Today has not been well for me and I took it out on you…” 

Looking at his hand, Karen lowered her eyes once before nodding and ignoring it completely. Taking in a sharp breath, the man stopped himself from making another comment which would've probably gotten him slapped, and most likely hexed in private, by Harry. 

Slowly turning to the other two muggles in the room, the man pinched out a smile that in any other situation would be incredibly comical. “And I apologize to you two, seeing as I've… trespassed on your… property.”

Matt and Foggy made no movement to indicate they accepted this man's apology, so the man finally spun around to Harry. 

Karen, seeing the man's less than pure look, coughed to get everyone's attention. “So, are you gonna keep making googly eyes at my friend? Or are you gonna say who you are?” 

Though he couldn't see, Matt figured the guy must've still been pissed off. He could practically hear the guy's muscles form into a sneer.

“Right… well… my name is Draco Malfoy. I was told Harry would be at this… place, so I thought I might as well meet him in person,” Draco explained.

“Well, what is it that you want Malfoy?” Harry said, with the usage of Draco’s last name not going unnoticed.

“You know this guy, Harry?” Foggy asked, pinched tone making it abundantly clear he severely disliked this guy.

“Of course he knows who I am, we did spend a good portion of our days at school… getting to know each other…” Draco said, arrogance permeating each word. As if on cue, Draco smirked at the rising blush and subsequent expressions of disbelief, especially from Harry's beau. 

“Draco!” “Excuse me?” Harry and Matt said at the same exact time. 

Laughing like the prat that he was, Draco crossed his arms in the same fashion Harry had done moments ago. “You never change Potter!”

Looking back at Matt and then to Draco, Harry was left with trying to deal with the annoying teasing of his year mate. “What he means is that we were roommates at my boarding school. In fact, we never really got along!” 

Although he tried to convince himself otherwise, Matt was indeed relieved that this 'Draco’ was just an old classmate and nothing more. Settling into a more relaxed but still guarded stance, Matt waited along with Karen and Foggy for the situation to be explained. He had enough to worry about, all with the agreement to take Frank's case. 

“Always the easiest to tease, Potter. Anyway, I'm here to take you to your very important meeting,” Draco finally explained. 

Harry tried to rationalize why he would need to talk to Draco about it, let alone how he even knew about it in the first place. _Unless… oh fuck, really?! Him?!_

“I hope you can… ignore Draco's lack of tact…” Harry said, apologizing for the antics of his pompous acquaintance.

“No worries… I guess,” Matt said, before turning to Karen, “We were heading out too.” 

When Karen realized Matt had convinced Foggy to take the case, she went to go pick up all her stuff.

“Well, I’ll be getting my car then. Wait for me at the front, Harry,” Draco said, before he rushed out the door as if someone had told him a wild Hippogriff was on the loose, leaving the four remaining. 

“I'm really sorry about the way he treated you, Karen. I would say he's not like that, but he is. Unfortunately.” 

“I've dealt with worse assholes before, Harry. It's no biggie!” Karen said dismissively, cocky smirk adorning her face. 

Letting Karen and Foggy go ahead, Matt and Harry fell back. Wanting to avoid the awkward silence of the morning, Harry was the first to speak. “I'm sorry about him… I just wanted you to know it wasn't like that between us… I haven't seen or talked to him since I left for New York.” 

“I believe you, Harry,” Matt said reassuringly, until a smirk came upon his face. “Although, you did sound awfully nervous when he teased you…” At the mention of Harry's embarrassment, both Foggy and Karen delved into a giggling fit. Spluttering, Harry looked at Matt with narrowed eyes.

Miffed at the teasing of his friends, Harry tried to shift the subject. “So, what made you decide to take the case?” 

The atmosphere around the foursome quickly lost the playful sheen that had been there moments ago at the mention of the case. 

“We can’t let Reyes get her way, not after all the things she’s done. Castle, for whatever reason, is important to her; We need to find out why and save his life,” Matt admitted. 

Harry looked to Matt, studying the serious look on his face. He knew nothing he would say could sway Matt or Karen away from this. All he could hope was that they wouldn’t be harmed. 

Once they were outside, they made their way to the parked car of Karen, only to be interrupted by the revving of an engine. Zooming up to them was Draco seated in a sleek car which, if Harry's guess was correct, was most likely the latest model from some expensive brand. 

Feeling a bit insecure, Karen frowned, only to be reassured by Harry. Before they went their separate ways, Harry went up to Matt and gave him a very prolonged kiss. Their signal to separate came in the form of Foggy mock-cat-calling the two. Laughing, they hugged one last time. 

“Good luck, Matt. Love you,” Harry whispered in his ear. 

“Love you too…” Matt responded back.

Getting in Karen's car, Harry shut the door behind Matt and watched as they made their way towards Metro General. Once they were out of sight, Harry made his way to Draco's car. Getting in, Harry tried his best to ignore the man beside him till utterly necessary. 

“I can see why you like him so much. For a muggle he's above average,” Draco postured, completely unaware of the sizing-up he was doing. 

Ignoring his comment, Harry figured he might as well ask the question on his mind. “Why did you come yourself? I have a driver here you know, and he's someone that actually has manners!”

Before he chose to answer, Draco pressed the gas harder, most definitely breaking the speed limit. He probably would've been pulled over too, had it not been for the charms inscribed on the car that hid it from unaware muggle passerby’s. “Well, since we haven't seen each other for a while, I thought I might as well escort you myself and make sure you get there on time.” 

An unsaid longing hung in the air, all the way till they made it to the hidden parking garage near Woolworth. Exiting, they made their way to the entrance and were greeted by an onslaught of gold and bright lights. 

“Merlin, these Americans and their penchant for grandeur. Don't they know a thing or two about minimalism or subtlety?!” Draco complained. 

_Ironic coming from the prince of peacocks himself, Harry thought._

Making their way through the crowds of wizards and witches, Draco and Harry entered an elevator. “Ain't you that hooligan that caused that ruckus the other day?” An elf, the one that kicked him out a few days ago if he remembered correctly, said to him. 

“Uhh-” Harry tried to say, before Draco cut him off.

“Take us to the Major Investigations Department,” Draco sternly said, not bothering with politeness. The elf glared before hitting the lever, causing the mechanism to move.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“That dude was a grade A asshole! I mean what kind of guy barges into someone's office like that and treats everyone like shit?” Foggy ranted to Karen and Matt as they drove to Metro General.

“There’s no point to complain now. It happened then, and we have to focus on now. We have to worry about how the hell we convince Castle to let us save his life.” Matt said, refocusing the conversation to the monumental task ahead of them.

“We need to convince him of Reyes’ involvement. We need to show him that there's more to this, more to his family's death… than just some gang war!” Karen passionately offered. 

“I'm starting to think we should turn back guys. I mean… we aren't even there yet, it's not too late!” Foggy pleaded, his cold feet starting to show. 

Matt stared Foggy down, clearly not agreeing with his sentiment. “Foggy, we can't just let him die! Not when there's a chance to catch Reyes red handed!” Karen said in solidarity with Matt. Realizing he was outnumbered, Foggy sat back and mentally prepare himself for the storm that they were walking into. 

When they arrived at the hospital, the three made their way inside, only to be faced with a deluge of journalists and reporters. 

“It looks like every reporter in town wants a piece of the Castle story!” Foggy nervously exclaimed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” A voice said amidst the chaos.

“Claire? Is that you?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, I had to cover for a friend of mine. I thought taking a day shift would be nice and easy; but, with the amount of people here, that's out the window,” Claire complained. “So, what the hell are you doing here?”

“We’re here to offer Frank Castle our legal services,” Matt said, getting straight to the point.

“Uhh… you want to repeat that? Cause it sounded like you said you wanted to ask him to hire you guys,” Claire fired back.

“We think that Castle isn't being given a fair trial. We just want to make sure that the law is dealt as it would for everybody else,” Matt reasoned to her, although his explanation did little to convince her. 

“The shit you always get yourself into…” Claire said under her breath. “Well, it's your funeral.”

Claire led the group to the armed guard stationed in front of the patient area. The three offered their IDs and allowed themselves to be searched. When they were given the all clear, they stepped forward to head through; that is, until Claire grabbed Matt and took him aside. When Foggy and Karen noticed, he waved them off and said he would catch up in a second. 

“Claire…” Matt said. 

“It's obviously none of my business, but just be careful. Things tend to go to shit when you get involved with anything,” Claire whispered to him. 

Smiling, Matt chose not to respond and simply walked towards his awaiting companions. As he was walking, Claire looked on in contemplation. _I hope this works out for you Matt. I don't need more trouble because of you._

Entering the elevator, Matt could literally feel the jittering of Foggy's appendages. “We're about to be walking on a big proscenium stage! And how do I know that? Because I went to theatre camp! That's the type of shit that those reporters are gonna be finding out, once this all gets out!” Foggy nervously spat.

Matt realized that even Karen was nervous too. He could practically smell the chemicals in her brain firing off, a tell-tale sign of anxiousness. _They're both shaking, God… even I am… Matt thought._

The three were all torn out of their miniature freak outs when the elevator door opened up to a familiar face. 

“Brett! Why are your here? And why do you have an actual tie around your neck?” Foggy asked.

“I got promoted. It’s Detective Sergeant now,” Mahoney proudly boasted, before frowning. “But you know what, I want to know why the hell you guys are here! There aren't any other convicts needing a lawyer on this floor, Castle made sure of that.” 

“We want to offer Frank Castle the services of Nelson and Murdock,” Matt explained.

Realizing they were serious, Brett took them to an alcove where no armed guards could watch or listen. “Now, I know you didn't just say what I think you said. The man already has a lawyer!” 

“That benchwarmer couldn't charge a thief even if he stole from a police station!” Foggy said, before Matt came to explain it more eloquently. 

“We feel that the PD assigned to him doesn't have his best interest in mind; he’s ready and willing to rollover for the sentence and the DA is ready to go for the death penalty, even if it means extraditing him to get it,” Matt explained.

“Well let me tell you something, if you do this and screw it up, Castle ain't gonna be the only funeral around. Ergo, your firm is as good as dead if that DA wins,” Brett warned.

“If we don't even try, then Frank is as good as dead,” Matt said seriously. 

Looking at all three of them, Brett let out a sigh before dragging them back out to the main hallway. “Bags on the table, arms up. The room Castle is in has been cleared of all materials, and you are not to give him anything that would change that. Oh, and mind the red tape, or I get to make my dream come true and arrest your asses.”

“But we already got searched downstairs?!” Foggy said.

“Well you're gonna be searched again!” Brett fired back.

After another round of searches, the three stood in front of the door. The weight of the situation was palpable in the air as they entered. Facing Frank from the opposite side of the room, Matt stayed deathly still. 

_Here we go._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Walking forward, Matt was stopped from going beyond the tape by Karen. Settling, Matt mentally prepared himself for what they were about to do. “Mr. Castle… my name is Matt Murdock. These are my associates Karen Page and Foggy Nelson… we're here to ma-” 

Before he could finish, Frank scoffed and opened his bruised-up eyes. “I know who you are. You protect shitbags.”

Matt stared for a moment, silent in thought before he continued. “We came here today to make you an offer. We don't want money or free advertising, hell we don't even have to be here. But, we are the only ones who are willing. You've made enemies far beyond the gangs you've killed. Powerful ones.” 

“Ones that have ordered for your death on multiple occasions,” Foggy added. 

“We've seen firsthand how far these people are willing to go to get you,” Matt said, before Karen interrupted once more. “A do-not-resuscitate order was given when you were brought in for the round in your head, and a shoot-to-kill a few days ago when you went after Grotto.”

“Ever since we started resisting… she's had it in for us. Which means, we're on the right track. Someone at the DA’s office wants you dead and we want to know why,” Matt stated, before making his final plea. “If you let us take your case, we can soften your sentence. Hell, we might even find out who's responsible for what happened to you. Just please… let us give you a shot.” 

“Like you gave a shot to Grotto, huh?”

Fed up with Frank's flippant regard for his own life, Karen dragged a photograph from her bag and shoved it in his face; much to the protest of Matt and Foggy. “You want answers and so do we! But none of us are gonna get them if you're dead!”

“Where did you get that?” Frank asked, becoming more agitated at the onslaught of faded memories the photo evoked in his head.

“From your home,” Karen spat.

“What the hell were you doing in my home?” Frank began to babble.

Before a valid answer could be given, the door began to open, causing Matt to pull Karen away. “Someone is lying about what happened to your family, Mr. Castle.”

“What the hell are you three doing in here? Get out! Now!” ‘Reyes’ screamed.

Giving one last look, Karen and the others were practically herded out. Assembling in the hallway, Matt whispered cautions to her before he turned around and faced the banshee like woman.

“How can we help you, Ms. Reyes?” Matt asked, completely ignoring ‘Reyes’’ anger.

“Get out of here! Frank Castle already has counsel, so you cockroaches need to go find some scraps somewhere else! Unless you’d liked to be charged with violating New York legal ethics, cause I'm sure you didn't get permission from the public defender,” ‘Reyes’ said through ground teeth.

“We talked to the PD this morning, and he didn't seem competent enough to handle this case. But, he did seem to… really admire what you're doing for this case,” Matt said.

Chuckling at the insinuation Matt was making, ‘Reyes’ raked her eyes over him before speaking. “Matt Murdock was it? You have an incredible reputation Mr. Murdock, I would hate for it to be tarnished by the stupidity and stubbornness of your colleagues. So, I'm going to say this to you: leave this ward, leave this man, and leave this case before you find yourself with so much dirt up your ass you don’t even realize your career is six feet under before it’s too late.” 

“We have every right to have private counsel with a prospective client,” Matt interjected.

“Not when your former client was one of his victims. Conflict of interest if I've ever seen one,” ‘Reyes’ snarked.

“Well, that might've been true… if any record of our dealings with Elliot Grote and with you were kept. But, unfortunately, they seem to be missing from public record. It's almost as if someone was scared they were going to get caught violating a WitPro contract, endangering a witness, and ordering a shoot-to-kill on Castle,” Matt shot back, much to the delight of Karen.

“Ms. Reyes could just go file the complaint, but she'd have to offer up all her records and confess. We have our story set, records and all. Can your office say the same?” Foggy said, putting the final nail in ‘Reyes’’ rapidly closing coffin.

“Fact is, the only person who shouldn't be here… is you. A prosecuting attorney interacting with a defendant, without their legal counsel present? Sounds like you’re the one who's breaching legal ethics,” Matt finished.

Feigning anger, 'Reyes’ stared Matt down until Brett came from behind all of them. “Looks like whatever the hell you did worked. Castle says he wants Nelson and Murdock.” 

With a look of accomplishment, the three grinned to 'Reyes’ before entering a room in the hallway.

Looking on for a moment longer, 'Reyes’ held in a smirk till she was out of the sights of the guards. Pulling out 'her’ phone, 'she’ dialed a number before it rang. “They fell for it. I've got them handled here.”

“Good, good… our playmates should be heading over here soon. I hope you'll keep those No-Maj’s distracted, wouldn't want any problems to arise,” the man on the other end said. 

“Of course, I'll make sure,” 'Reyes’ said before the line was abruptly cut. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You really need to work on your tact Draco, you're going to piss the wrong person off and then someone's going to have to fix it. And I know it won't be your daddy,” Harry sassed to the ire of Draco.

Sneering at Harry, Draco stayed grounded silently till the elevator landed on their designated floor. Walking out, the two made their way to a small assembly of wizards and witches, including Harry's father and Sam.

“Hey Harry!” Sam exclaimed, much to the embarrassment of the others. 

“Hello Sam,” Harry said, before acknowledging the rest of them, “everyone.”

“Glad you could join us, Harry.” His father said.

“Now that we're all here, let's introduce ourselves. Seeing as we're going to be working together, we need to make sure we at least know each other's names. I'll start. My name is Virgil, I'll be running the backup team,” the burly man, who they now knew as Virgil, said in a deep voice.

“My name is Paolo, but most of my friends know me as Paul.” _Seems to be a bit of a peacock like Draco._

“Name’s Bruce.” _A quiet guy, huh?_

“Beatrice.” _What crawled up her- oh wait, she's that lady from before, the one that got pissy at me._

When it came to Harry and Draco, the two made no attempt to divulge anything further than their names. 

With introductions done, the small group gathered around what looked to be some kind of Pensieve. Though, when looking closer, there seemed to be some modifications done to it, if he read the runes carved onto the gold plating correctly. 

Virgil waved his wand around the perimeter of it, causing the runes to glow and a strange silvery liquid to fill it. Raising his wand, the silvery liquid rose, forming into the shape of the Yakatomi Building and its surroundings. 

“Alright, listen up. From the information we've acquired, we've developed a plan of action for tonight. Harry and Mr. President will be the field operatives for this mission. They'll be at the actual gala, while the rest of us will be scattered among the rooftops of the adjacent buildings. While they deal with these guys, we'll be casting a modified version of the spell Homenum Revelio within the perimeter,” Virgil explained thoroughly.

“It's altered so that only beings with a magical core, or anything that utilizes magical energy in any way, will be detected. If any such person or creature enters, we'll know. If you get something, use your Patronus to communicate,” he continued, before turning to Harry and Sam.

“Since the two of you will be limited in the magic you can use, you'll have to use these,” Virgil said while taking out two stones with one rune on each side, “these will act as your form of communication. Be careful with them, they're prototypes made by our Unspeakables. All you have to do is focus some magic into these runes and they'll activate. One side acts as a runic two-way radio, and the other side acts as a Portkey to this building should the need arise.” 

Whistling, Harry kept one while he passed the other to Sam. After that, Virgil began to explain the contingency plans in place, if anything were to go wrong. “With the way Minister Quirrell and I have planned this, there shouldn't be any snags, bar any unforeseen circumstances”

When he finished, the group disbanded for a bit to individually prepare. While Harry was sitting, his father came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders. 

“Why'd you ask Draco of all people to do this?” Harry asked.

“Given your history, and his… unusual relationship with you, I figured he would be the best option from those you're close to. That Longbottom boy would've been too anxious to properly perform, the Lovegood girl is too unpredictable, and the Granger girl is too headstrong to let things run their course,” Voldemort sighed, “Draco is the perfect candidate by default; too self-absorbed to rush in and defend your honor yet infatuated with you enough to have your wellbeing at the forefront of his mind.” 

At the mention of Draco's… feelings, Harry frowned. “That's a bit manipulative, taking advantage of someone who cares about me.” 

“I would sacrifice the whole world to keep you safe,” Voldemort admitted, causing Harry to blush slightly at his father's twisted sense of affection.

“Anyway, you should be getting ready, you have a gala to attend,” Voldemort said, conjuring a bag containing his suit. Looking up at his father, Harry pouted at his knowing look. “I expected for something like this to slip your mind. Now go change, I want to see how you look.”

When Harry made his way to get changed, he made eye contact with Sam and Draco before leaving the area. Sam turned to Draco and sized him up. “So, you're THE Draco Malfoy?” 

“Well, I’m honored that the President of MACUSA knows of me,” Draco said, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I only know you because I've had to deal with Harry's drunken rants about his life at Hogwarts!” Sam admitted, laughing at the clear look of disappointment and annoyance on Draco's face. 

The group reconvened after a while, with Harry and Sam dressed in designer suits, while the others were in some form of Auror gear. 

“It's time. Remember everyone, this should be a simple sting operation, even if that. But, stay on your toes,” Virgil encouraged, before the entire backup group Apparated to their designated locations. 

“I called Bruno earlier, so he should be waiting for the two of you outside,” Voldemort said. 

“Thanks Dad! Wish us luck!” Harry exclaimed. 

“You're a Potter, son. Luck is practically a part of your soul. Now, you've got this right? Remember what I always say!” Voldemort said to the now leaving pair.

“‘Always listen to the voice that sounds like you in my head! Because it's always right!’” Harry recited. 

Smiling, he watched the two be carried away by the elevator. Turning back to the Pensieve, Voldemort stood there in thought. Narrowing his eyes, the man stared at the magical map displayed in front of him. _Hmmm… there's something in the air, something that seems… off…_

Resolved, Voldemort turned around and Apparated away, leaving the room empty… except for a tiny snake that had hid itself between the array of books on the floor. The snake slithered to the Pensieve before suddenly morphing into the visage of a handsome man. _Too fucking easy, the man thought._

The slender faced Animagus used a strand of his slicked back hair to interrupt the wards and summon a phone, snapping pictures of the plans. Sending the message out, the man chuckled and turned around, only to be faced with Voldemort. “I knew I smelled something slimy.” 

Before the man could raise his wand, Voldemort stared hard into the man's eyes. When he found what he was looking for, he stepped back in anger before raising his wand. “Sectumsempra!” 

At the wave of his wand, the man's throat was slashed opened, causing blood to pour everywhere. Sneering at the mess, Voldemort levitated the body in order to clean up the blood. Once he did, Voldemort looked hard at the man, noticing something on his neck. 

“For the love of Merlin…” he ground out, realizing this would most likely mean he had to keep this man alive. “It's your lucky day, you scum. You get to live…” 

Voldemort looked around one last time, before grabbing the body and Apparating away, heading off to verify the new information he'd gained. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“We need to have all of Castle's charges brought over here. If we can collect all that information, we can come up with a deal and pitch it straight to him,” Matt said, to which Foggy left momentarily to ask for what they needed. 

“You were fucking incredible Matt! For once, I think we finally have Reyes in a corner!” Karen exclaimed. Smiling at her, Matt blushed at the praise. 

A moment later, Foggy came into the room with several folders, most likely containing all the charges. Judging from the sound, Matt surmised there were probably more charges than the three of them could count. 

“We also need to work on convincing the judge and Reyes to lessen the sentence. Maybe even dismiss all that stuff from the Dogs of Hell in Delaware,” Matt further explained, while Foggy and Karen begin cataloguing Castle's charges. 

Just as he was about to join them, a knock at the door alerted the three of them. The three gave confused shrugs, before Matt snapped out of it and invited whoever it was in. 

“Car service for a… Mr. Murdock,” the man, a driver most likely, said. 

Matt looked utterly baffled, before realization hit him. _Oh God… not now…_

“Umm… can you please give us a minute!” Matt said, causing the man to leave and for Karen and Foggy to look at him with confusion. 

“Who the hell sent a driver for you?!” Foggy yelled.

“It's… that client I was telling you and Harry about… I tried to get out of it, but the money she was offering, Foggy… I… I couldn't say no,” Matt sighed.

“Matt, is something wrong? If this client is taking advantage of you, we need to tell someone! Or do something!” Karen said, worried for the wellbeing of her friend. 

“No! No… they're not… it's just… I want us to have a future. I know it may not seem like it, especially after what just happened, but it's true. We… I need to give my fair share, just like you two,” Matt pleaded with them. 

“Matt you're already giving us your 'fair share’, especially with taking on Castle! Besides, we need you for this! This is way too important to skip out!” Foggy tried to explain to Matt, hoping it would convince his partner. _You idiotic, self-righteous douche! Always screwing yourself to help the both of us!_

“I know Foggy! But I ne-” Matt tried to say, before the driver at the door came barging in once more. 

“Mr. Murdock, my employer was insistent that you come now. She has a schedule to uphold,” the driver explained. 

Matt turned towards his two friends, and then at the driver, and scrunched his fists. He felt as though he would dig right through his hand, before Karen took his fist in her own. 

“Whatever call you make… I support it,” Karen offered. Matt then turned to Foggy, awaiting an answer he wasn't sure would come. 

“... Me too,” Foggy relented. 

Smiling sadly, Matt hugged his two companions. “Thank you, guys… for supporting me.” 

“I'll try to be as quick as I can guys! All you need to do is catalogue the charges and come up with a deal. It's right up your alley, Foggy! I know you'll be great!” Matt said, hoping his parting words would give them direction, and perhaps some luck as well. 

Leaving, Matt followed the driver to the elevator, but was stopped by a cough to his left. 

“Going somewhere?” 'Reyes’ asked.

“It's none of your business, now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to spend my time on,” Matt scolded.

“Ouch!... Felt that one,” 'Reyes’ chuckled, before she opened her mouth again. “I'm just surprised your leaving is all. Considering how hard you fought for this, I thought you'd be working your ass off trying to convince me to change my mind… guess I pegged you for the 'captain stays with the ship’ type of lawyer. But I guess you're not… you're a smart one, bailing on them while the shit’s not up to your knees… yet.”

Angered at the insinuation of his abandonment, Matt huffed and stepped into the elevator slowly. As the doors closed, Matt gave some parting words to 'Reyes’. “I have not, I am not, and I will not ever abandon my colle- my friends! I trust them because I know they're capable! You should try learning that, it's a very fundamental skill to have; faith in your colleagues.”

When it closed and the dinging that signified floor movement, 'Reyes’ frowned and sent a text to a number. 

Once he was escorted outside, Matt was guided into a limo, when he smelled a very familiar perfume. “Elektra…”

“Hello, Matthew.” 

“You know what?! You're a piece of shit. This is probably one of the most important cases of my life, and of my colleagues’ lives! You can't just order me around when you feel like it!” Matt said as he got into the car.

“Darling, you're the one who got into the car. Besides, I would think a ledger containing documentation of underground and illegal goings-on in Hell's Kitchen is somewhat important,” Elektra countered. 

Clicking his teeth, Matt settled in and waited for Elektra to continue. Seeing that she had peaked his interest, Elektra shoved a suit into Matt's lap. “Get undressed and change into these. We're going to a gala tonight!” 

“A gala? What does that have to do with this ledger?” Matt asked as he stripped his clothing off, changing into the fitted tuxedo.

“The ledger is hidden under heavy lock and key inside the Yakatomi Building. Roxxon invited me to a gala and for all intents and purposes gave us a free ticket to steal it!” Elektra explained. 

“How so?” 

“Each employee is given a key card which grants them access to a secret floor in their building. Thanks to your efforts, I was able to confirm their weak link,” Elektra elucidated. Seeing that Matt wasn't getting it, Elektra rolled her eyes and explained. “Stan Gibson, the accountant you scared shitless at The Sky Garden.”

Matt contemplated all that Elektra had admitted into the past few minutes while finishing up putting on his fancy attire. “So, you're gonna just pickpocket him?” 

“That's the plan, yes.” 

“And is that all there is to the plan?” Matt asked, “because I need to know this won't get ugly. That it won't get anyone I care about… Harry… he won't get hurt.” 

“Of course!” Elektra drew out, “it's just a simple grab-and-go. Once I get my hands on it, I'll make good on my promise and get out of your city…” 

After that statement, the two sat in silence until they had arrived. Stepping out of the car, the two held onto each other, much to Matt's annoyance. Standing just at the entrance, the two took a deep breath before making their way inside. 

However, unbeknownst to the both of them, another pair would be joining them very soon. 

“Bruno, I think it'd be safest to leave the area once we get there. That way, there won't be any mistaking magical signatures,” Harry said.

“Of course, and good luck to the both of you. Keep safe,” Bruno said.

“You ready for this, Harry?” Sam asked as he kept fidgeting with his bowtie. 

Seeing his predicament, Harry swatted Sam's hands out of the way, so he could fix it himself. “Of course I am, I'm just worried everything's going to go to shit. It always does.”

“Well maybe this time is different,” Sam replied after Harry was done fixing him up. After a bit, they arrived at the building, where they said goodbye to Bruno. Slowly walking up the steps, the pair looked at each other. 

“You have your runestone?” Harry asked as they ascended the stairs. 

“Of course,” Sam responded hastily. 

“Well, here we go,” Harry breathed out to Sam and himself.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Overlooking the skyline of New York, a man clad in black tapped away at his phone, partially ignorant to what was going on at the street across the way. 

“Seems like there was only one snag. Oh well, it won't make a difference…” he said, chuckling as he stepped over the body of a woman. Not even bothering to look at her, the man simply sat along the edge of the building and sighed. 

_Here we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0_0 oooOOOOoooo 
> 
> I'm really excited for the way the story is panning out now since I was a bit off for these last two chapters. My problem was that nothing would come out and the things that did felt a bit... idk. It felt like the way I was writing was not translating my thoughts well. Some of the plot points were starting to get fuzzy, even though I had them really planned out; so, I hope you can bare with me with some of the things going on.
> 
> BUT, I'm much more motivated now. However, since I do have school now, I think I'm gonna stick with the two-ish or less weeks between chapters, so I can allow for school time. However, I'll make sure each chapter is at least above 5k words, as these past ones have been. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and if you would like, comment any suggestions/compliments/criticisms! But be nice about it and don't be an asshole!


	9. Chapter 9: Lust IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stage is set for confrontation. Harry's and Matt's paths diverge even further as the two are set to face off against their respective enemies. Will both make it out unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, sorry it's been way too long since the last update. I've had to deal with starting back school and Hurricane Florence to top off the already daunting pile of shit that has been the past two weeks. That being said, to make it up, I decided to make this chapter longer (that and I couldn't figure out when to cut it off. Seriously, after a creative dry spell and two "from-scratch" rewrites, I was finally able to get a groove going and finish it.) So, I present you the first half of the finale of this arc. The action is totally heating up, and if you're reading a specific part in the end, and think to yourself "hmm, this sounds like an anime battle," well then you'd be right, because that's where I got the inspiration for it. Hope that doesn't affect you (although I don't know why it would, anime is awesome!) Anyway, as always none of this belongs to me, except for certain plot elements. Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Lust IV

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts_  
**xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
_**xxx – foreign language** _

“You must look great,” Matt mentioned as they walked inside. 

“How can you tell?” Elektra asked.

“Heart rates shot up as soon as we got here. Adrenaline pumping, blood flowing, both tell-tale signs of infatuation,” Matt explained.

“Well let's hope we can use that,” Elektra said as she guided them to a table.

“Over there is where Stan is. Watch my purse, will you?” Elektra said, attempting to leave. However, before she could, Matt grabbed her arm and hissed in her ear. 

“He's got eyes on him.” Elektra followed the direction Matt was facing, seeing the plethora of guards and security cameras.

“Well, at least they know their weakest link. Guess we'll have to find another way,” Elektra sighed. 

“I think I might have an idea” Matt said, dragging Elektra towards the bar.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You need to stop fidgeting, you already stand out as it is!” 

“Well excuse me! Sorry for not being a cool and collected Slytherin! I was a Thunderbird! We're known for our inability to stand still!” 

Harry glared at the fidgeting form of his companion as they both entered the building. The two were greeted by a foyer drenched in numerous flowers and art pieces; however, the extravagance of the decor was almost entirely lost on them, as both were so invested in the mission at hand. 

“So, when we get in, what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked as they climbed the spiraling staircase.

“Well… I think it's more of a 'what am I supposed to do’ situation,” Harry breathed out to Sam, who spluttered at his readiness to split up.

“What the hell do you mean by that? I'm here for a reason! What's the point of having backup if you do things on your own?” Sam argued back, as the Jazz music crescendos in the background. 

“Of the two of us, I'm the only one here who has an actual reason for being at this gala. They're not going to let you in on these talks, Sam. Besides, I need someone to keep a lookout while they have me occupied,” Harry explained to Sam, slipping into his focused mask. 

“Lookout?”

“I know they don't want us to use magic if we can help it, but…” Harry trailed off.

“What are you planning, Harry?” Sam questioned Harry, only to be met with silence.

They continued to walk up the stairs until they reached the top, where a number of guests were scattered around the hallway leading to the gala. The two scanned the stragglers before proceeding. However, the two were stopped from entering the main room by a Japanese man.

“Mr. Potter, I'm so glad you can make it. I was afraid you would miss out on tonight!” The man, who's sudden appearance sent the two wizards into a temporary stupor, said with an artificial sounding cheer in his voice 

“Thank you very much for your… hospitality. Although… it seems you know who I am, but I have no idea who you are, Mister?” Harry asked the man.

“Ah! How rude of me! My name is Hirochi and I am the head of Asano, the Japanese branch of Roxxon. I'm also a colleague of Mr. Uragiri, who you spoke with a few days ago. He asked for me to make sure you'd be welcomed,” the man, now identified as Hirochi, said in the same sickeningly sweet voice as before. 

“Well, send my regards then. But, since my business was with him, surely he would have spared some time instead of sending someone else?” Harry grilled.

“My apologies, Mr. Potter, Mr. Uragiri is currently indisposed at the moment. He wanted to be here, but unfortunately a very important client insisted on meeting with him earlier. But, don't worry, he has briefed me on all that you were discussing, so there shouldn't be any disparities,” Hiroshi explained to Harry. 

“Of course,” Harry said cautiously, “well then… how should we go about this meeting?” 

“Why don't you and your guest enjoy the gala first? We put a lot of money into it, and I would hate for it to go to waste. We can meet later in the evening, I'll call for you then,” Hiroshi said, before ushering the two inside. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Foggy, there's over a hundred charges between the two of us! God… how the hell are we supposed to do this?” Karen ranted as she frantically paced the room.

“Well one part of me says we don't and just stick our heads in the ground till this is over,” Foggy said, much to the displeasure of Karen, “the other part wants to get this over with, flip off Reyes, and tell her to suck it when we win this case!” 

At Foggy's resolution, Karen smiled and went back to the files given to the former trio, now pair, of them. Flicking through the various papers once more, Karen spotted something she didn't realize was there before. 

“Hey Foggy… take a look at this,” Karen said, gesturing for Foggy to come over and look at the paper in her hand. 

“Adult female. Found in warehouse along with several other unidentified bodies. All bodies in the vicinity, including Jane Doe, were mutilated beyond recognition. Dental records inconclusive,” Foggy read out.

“I don't get it? How is this any different to the other cases? We already know he's a murdering, torturing psychopath, Karen. How does this help us?” Foggy questioned.

“That's the thing Foggy!” Karen exclaimed, “It matches the M.O. of all the other homicides; but, this is the only case out of over a hundred that includes a female victim. Out of over a hundred, Foggy… and just one had a female victim. It can't just be a coincidence, Foggy!” 

Sighing, Foggy turned around and raked his hands through his hair. “Even… even if there was something substantial with that case, it's inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. One dead lady isn't going to topple Reyes, we need some heavy ammo. Besides, I don't know for sure if this has any significance.”

“Then how about we ask him right now? I mean, what's adding one more question gonna to do?” Karen pleaded to Foggy, who exhaled very loudly before grabbing his notepad to write it down. 

When the time came for questioning, Brett escorted the two into the room. Standing at the complete other end of the room, they were faced with a much calmer Castle. Taking only a few steps forward, Foggy hesitantly flipped his notepad. 

“U-um… I wanted to start this by asking if y-you are of sound-” Foggy tried to bite out, before Frank interrupted him.

“... Really?” Frank mumbled while raising the eyebrow that wasn't bruised, before turning his head towards Karen. “If ya’ can't spit it out, then get her to do it…”

“Listen… Mr. Castle… there is standard procedure for this, and considering the circumstances, I think it's in your best interest to follow protocol and leave my associate alone. Now, I need to know if you are of sound body and mind. That you were not coerced by any party to receive our help-” Foggy tried to read before being cut off once more.

“I want her to do it; I want to talk to her alone,” Frank said in a harder tone, staring at Karen for what seemed like the forever. The look unnerved her but seemed to have awoken something in a very deep part of her mind. 

Memories of a screaming man thrashed in her mind. Flashes of fire were interpolated with the picture of Frank's family. Her heart began to jackhammer in her chest and her mind went wild. _I can't… I can't…_

“I'll do it.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I am so sorry sir, I hope I didn't get any on you!” Matt feigned remorse, internally laughing at the way the man's voice seemed to change when he noticed Matt's cane and glasses.

“It's… quite all right. No need to make a big fuss. Enjoy the party…” Gibson said as he hurried to the bathroom to wash up, closely being followed by two guards. 

“Nice job,” Elektra whispered, knowing Matt would hear it. Matt took her compliment in stride, walking towards the bathroom to collect his keycard. 

As Matt walked off to knock out the guards and Gibson in the bathroom, took a swig of Matt's drink. She scrunched her face at the taste but drank it nonetheless. _Might as well get loose tonight, Elektra thought._

Her momentary desire to have an enjoyable evening was instantly ruined when she laid eyes on the newest guests to the gala. “Well tonight just got a lot more complicated.” 

Elektra finished off Matt's Macallan before striding towards Harry, who has accompanied by an unknown man and Hirochi. When she entered Harry's field of vision, she noticed the stunned look on his face as she approached the three men.

Before either Harry or Elektra could say anything, Hirochi stepped in between them. “Ms. Natchios, I'm so glad you could join us for this fine evening. I hope everything has been pure excellence!”

“Well, hello Mr. Hirochi. Thank you for inviting me to this fine gala. I don't think I've ever been to a livelier event since I got back to New York,” Elektra replied to him, sarcasm practically dripping from her words.

“You're too kind Ms. Natchios. And, might I say, you look beautiful tonight! A ravishing red to match your smoldering beauty,” Hirochi said, clearly trying to kiss her ass and acting oblivious to her subtle snark. 

“Oh, you know I love having my ass kissed,” Elektra said. 

“Well then, allow me kiss a much more appropriate part of you,” the man said, before taking her hand and adorning it with a chaste kiss.

When he finished catching up with Elektra, Hirochi turned around and grabbed Harry by the shoulder. “Have you met Mr. Potter here? He's an up and coming business man working on behalf of Gaunt Industries.”

“We've met in passing before. In fact, we met in this very building a couple of days ago!” Elektra explained to Hirochi, who looked between them with a pensive look. 

“Well, that's good. I won't be needing to introduce the two of you then! I'm going to go and entertain some of the other guests, so I will leave you two to catch up.” Hirochi said as he began to walk away, “oh, and Mr. Potter? I'll send one of the staffs for you later.”

The man left Harry and Elektra staring at each other rather awkwardly, with Harry giving her a half-forced smile. “It's nice to see you again Elektra! You look great!” 

“Why thank you Harry, you look great yourself,” Elektra complimented back, before turning her gaze to Sam, “so, is this… let me guess… boyfriend? No… husband?” 

At the mention of a romantic attachment to his friend, Harry spluttered and began to hastily explain away that train of thought, much to the amusement of Elektra and Sam. “No! No, no, no! He's not- we're not together! I mean we are, but we're not involved with each other. He's, well-” 

Harry's embarrassment fueled string of explanations was stopped by Sam, who stepped in to save his friend from further teasing. “We're business partners of sorts. I work for another company, but we've been collaborating on some deals, this one with Roxxon included.”

“Well isn't that nice?! Wish I could've had some back-up,” Elektra said, adding a strained chuckle at the end. “I’m sorry to have to leave you gentlemen right after meeting you, but I have to go powder my nose. Enjoy tonight, perhaps we can talk a bit later.” 

With that, Elektra scurried towards the restrooms, when she found herself knocking into a very familiar block of muscle. Looking up, she was met with a disgruntled Matt. 

“Why are you over here? You know what- never mind. I got the key card. We should probably go now, before they find out about Gibson and his guard dogs,” Matt said to Elektra. 

“There may be a slight issue with trying to get to the elevators,” Elektra said.

“Wait what? What's going on, Elektra?” Matt asked, scrunching his face. 

“Well… just listen in at the bar,” Elektra mysteriously said, before Matt obliged her. 

“Well she was a weird one. Wonder what was up with her,” an unfamiliar voice to Matt said. 

Continuing to listen on, Matt picked up a voice that was he was very intimately familiar with. “Maybe she had to go meet with her date? That, or she didn't want to hang around with us. Either way, it's better that we don't have any other eyes on us…” 

Hearing Harry caused Matt to freeze up, only to be snapped out of it by Elektra. “Matthew, listen. You can go play date with your boyfriend later. Right now, we have something much more important, and much more dangerous to do.”

“What the hell is he even doing here, Elektra?” Matt asked in a slightly panicked fashion. 

“He mentioned a meeting with Hirochi, the head of the Japanese branch. My guess is they invited him to make some sort of business deal. He was there the day I hacked them, so it must've also stopped their meeting as it did mine,” Elektra whispered to Matt, looking steadily at a pair of guards who walked passed them. 

“Elektra, if you’re right, then he's going to be in a meeting with someone from the Yakuza. The same Yakuza that might've been after him!” Matt harshly said to her. 

“What do you want to do about that, huh? You want to keep an eye on him, bring him along while we go after the ledger,” Elektra drew out, while snatching the key card from Matt's pockets, “You want to bring him along to a place that's probably crawling with armed guards? Then be my guest! But if you actually want to keep him safe, ignore him and do what we came here to do. Harry's a big boy, I'm sure he can take care of himself against one old man.” 

Matt clicked his teeth and tensed his jaw, before letting out a long breath. Rubbing his forehead, Matt turned towards the sound of Harry's voice. 

“So, how's that lawyer boyfriend of yours, by the way?” Sam asked.

“Matt's doing well, we're doing well. I was thinking of moving some of my stuff into his loft soon. You think that's weird?” Harry asked his companion. 

“Not really, I mean you've been dating for months now. Besides, not like you're 'Moving-In’ moving in,” Sam responded.

Matt smiled slightly at Harry. _Moving in, huh? I should probably clean out a drawer for him then._ Returning to the situation at hand, Matt sighed before turning back towards Elektra. “So, how do we get passed them?”

Smirking at Matt's compliance, Elektra bypassed him to take a peek into the main gala room. Eyeing Harry and Sam for a moment, she went back to face Matt. 

“We're going to have to walk very fast to not give them a chance to notice. Considering your… extracurricular nightly activities, being sneakily fast isn't too much to ask of you, is it?” Elektra explained. 

Matt snorted, before whispering back to her. “Really? Just sneaking past them? No fancy misdirection, no elaborate set up?” 

“You overestimate the methods of my madness, Matthew,” Elektra bounced back at Matt.

“Well, you did blackmail me into being here, use my legal expertise to weed out your hit, and to top it off you got the Yakuza to go after you, just to prove a point to me. Do you really blame me?” Matt asked. 

“Hmm… you got me there.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Karen watched as Foggy was escorted out of the room, leaving her as the lone figure against Frank Castle. Talking the notebook her friend gave her, she put a strand of her hair behind her ear before looking over the script Foggy had written out. 

“You were never in any danger. You or your friend. I wasn't going to hurt either of you,” Frank mumbled. 

“What?” Karen questioned. 

“I wasn't going to hurt you two. Just Grotto… I only hurt people that deserve it,” Frank answered. 

“And Grotto… he what? What did he do to deserve to die?” Karen said, getting somewhat heated at Frank's blatant lack of care for someone's life.

“He was a hitman for the Irish… Killed an old lady for just seeing his face. Someone like that… you really think they deserve to be here… be living while they do shit like that?” Frank fired at her. 

“And that's supposed to justify it? Or any of the other things you're accused of doing?” Karen asked harshly, getting fed up with Frank's explanations. 

“It's one less scumbag on the street. End of story. Besides, you see what goes on with that fancy lawyer shit. Putting them in a box doesn't do anything. There's no justice there,” Frank fired right back.

“There's no justice in senseless killing!” Karen practically screamed at him.

“…Do you know what a scout sniper is?” Frank asked. At Karen's denial, he went on. “Well that's what I am. A highly skilled marksman, meaning if I wanted to shoot either of you, I would've. My class at Quantico, class 307, had a motto: 'One shot, one kill’. Ergo, you and that other guy were gonna be safe no matter what. I may not be right in the head or whatever, but I have all the sense in the world when I pull the trigger.”

Karen didn't respond, letting the new information Frank had indirectly confessed bake in her head. “…Why did you even ask me to stay?” 

“I was… I was afraid my memories would go away. And… you were in my house…” Frank said, his speech coming out in fragments rather than full coherent sentences.

Karen tilted her head just a bit, inclining to Frank, before realizing what he was alluding to. “You never went back did you? Not even after-”

“No…” Frank said, with a tinge of shame in his voice, “when you were there… did you go in the kitchen? Were the plates on the table, or did they make it to the sink?”

“Uh… they're were… they were in the rack, washed even,” Karen confirmed to him.

Frank chuckled bitterly at the situation, before falling into a lull and telling Karen an anecdote about his son, Frank Junior. 

“I used to do that too, except for me it was beakers filled with soda and a storage closet in the basement. I used to pretend I was a scientist, trying to… be just like my dad… made me feel closer to him in my head, even though we never were in real life.” Karen told him, voice warbling a bit at the end. 

“I guess we need that, right? We just need something to make the world seem less… shitty, huh?” Frank tried to joke.

“You know, I went up to the kid's bedrooms. So many toys on the ground, trophies on the dressers… there was this little jeep on the floor, too…” Karen said, trying to ease Frank. “…It's not my place to say, but… I think they loved you very much.”

At that observation, Frank stared over to the side, as if his mind was processing long held emotions. Seeing Frank starting to disconnect, Karen went to her bag and offered the picture of his family to him. This seemed to have grounded him enough to be pulled back.

“Thank you… you helped me remember,” Frank said to her, his voice a bit more horse than before.

“You're welcome,” Karen said. 

“If you wanna ask your questions, you can go ahead,” Frank said, much to her surprise.

Picking up the notepad, Karen scanned the set of questions they had come up with, only to stop at one that was hastily scribbled at the end. Looking up at Frank, she bit her lip, contemplating on whether to ask it.

“Just ask, ma'am. I'll try… I'll try to answer them,” Frank reassured her. 

“A couple of days ago, bodies in a warehouse were found by the NYPD. In the report filed, Reyes assumed that they were all killed by you. Among the bodies was that of a Jane Doe; the only women listed as connected to you. My question is, why her? You plowed through dozens of men, yet there's only one woman. Is it some twisted sense of chivalry? I mean, what-” Karen tried to say, before noticing the confused look on Frank's face. 

“What? What's wrong Mr. Castle?” Karen asked. 

“I never… I never killed any lady. I remember each and every person I down, and I know that I never went after any lady.” Frank explained, causing Karen's face to scrunch in rumination.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I remember field work being much more… interesting. I mean, free drinks are great, but I wanted to like… stun someone during a chase. Or like, have to commandeer some vehicle to catch someone,” Sam complained to Harry as they sat at the bar. 

Harry snorted, silently agreeing with the sentiment, but choosing to tease Sam anyway. “I think you've been watching too many muggle thrillers, Sam. I'm sure the first thing happens a lot, but that second part…” 

“How would you know? You went straight to starting a company with your father after Hogwarts. You never became an Auror!” Sam chided him. 

“I happen to be very good friends with an Auror who tells me all of his work stories when I'm in England. Besides, you're forgetting who I am, trouble always finds a way to me,” Harry said. 

The two continued to converse, until Harry felt a very familiar tingle in the back of his head. Turning around sharply, Harry tried to look around for the source. All he was met with were gaggles of people lounging about.

“What's wrong, Harry?” Sam asked, concerned for his friend.

Narrowing his eyes before turning back around, Harry faced Sam to let him know what happened. “I felt… I felt the charmed necklace I gave Matt, the one that lets me know if something was up with him. But… it stopped quickly.” 

“Maybe he got spooked or something? I'm sure it's nothing if it didn't last long,” Sam tried to reassure Harry. 

“Yeah… I guess…” Harry said dejectedly. 

“May I interrupt, Mr. Potter?” A voice from behind them said. 

Harry, the only one of the two who wasn't facing this mysterious man, turned around. 

“I apologize for interrupting your time with your guest, but Mr. Uragiri is ready to see you now,” the man said, holding his hand out to signal where he wanted Harry to go.

Harry tilted his head. “I thought Mr. Hirochi said Mr. Uragiri was busy with another client?” 

“He was able to finish early. Now, I must insist you meet him now. You wouldn't want to keep him waiting,” the man explained.

Standing up, Harry gave Sam a concerned look before letting the man lead him away. Putting enough distance between him and the man to not seem too suspicious, Harry took out his rune stone and focused some magic into it. “He's taking me to a meeting room a few floors up. Wait by the stairs, I'll signal if I need your help.”

With a hesitant confirmation from Sam, Harry caught back up with the man, who was waiting for him in front of an elevator. When both were inside, the man simply ignored him and pressed the button for the eleventh floor. In the short time before their arrival, Harry tried to come up with a plan to proceed. 

_I can't exactly go 'guns-a-blazin’, I have no clue what the hell this guy is going to pull. Not to mention I'm basically alone. What to do… Harry thought to himself._

Harry was taken out of his thoughts when the elevator dinged, signaling they had arrived. The man led Harry down a few corridors, to a meeting room with slightly frosted windows. When the man opened the door, Harry entered the room with trepidation. Once inside, he was greeted by an ambiently lit room, with who he assumed was Mr. Uragiri sitting in a chair facing away from him. 

Said man swiveled his chair around, unintentionally likening himself to the villains of the muggle movies Foggy would always recommend to him. The man gestured for Harry to sit down, though Harry preferred to have at least some modicum of the 'high ground’, so he remained standing. 

Chuckling at Harry's reluctance, the Japanese man stood up himself and made his way towards him. Stopping a few chair lengths away, the man offered Harry a rather devious smile. “It's been a few days, hasn't it Mr. Potter? I'm glad to see you, truly. I rarely meet anyone, business people or not, with as much fire as you.” 

“Well, thanks. But can we please cut the shit. I want to know what you were alluding to a few days ago,” Harry said, not giving him anytime to settle.

The man gave a hefty laugh, shifting his devious smirk into a look one would give to a child. “You don't mince your words, do you Mr. Potter? You know, I've always wondered… why is it you kept that name? I'd thought you'd at least take up your father's, or perhaps even your lordship title, from your convict of a godfather.”

It took much of Harry's willpower not to react to the man's in-depth knowledge of his familial background. Trying to neutralize any emotion on his face, Harry stared back at the man with just his lips tightened. “…We're not here to discuss my family, we're here to discuss the business Gaunt could've had with Roxxon. That being said, I'm using my judgment to make the call and say there isn't much for us here.”

The man simply stared straight into Harry's eyes, unnerving him. It was as if his stare was physically affecting him, he could feel pin pricks shooting right at-

“Harry! Look away!” A familiar voice to his side suddenly said. Turning his gaze to the source, Harry was met with the materialized form of Tom.

“Too late, little raven…” the man said, before Harry's vision went to black. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“It looks like your beau and his friend are gone,” Elektra said to Matt.

Matt looked surprised, confirming with his senses that the two were no longer that the bar. “Where did they go? Did you see anything?” 

Elektra, rather than being surprised at Matt's missing lover, was incredibly interested in Matt's statement. “You didn't hear them leaving at all?”

“No…” Matt said with a worried tone.

Realizing the distraction this could cause, Elektra decided to focus the two back onto their own mission. _Harry can take care of himself, for now…_

“He's a big boy Matthew, right now we have to worry about ourselves. We need to get to the hidden floor now,” Elektra said, pulling Matt along towards the elevators.

As they walked at a slightly faster pace, Elektra could've sworn she saw Harry's friend, but decided to not bother with it at the moment. Entering the elevator, she swiped the card and pressed the button to take them to the thirteenth floor. When it stopped it's climbed, the elevator opened its doors. Stepping out, Elektra and Matt carefully made their way to a specific corridor.

Matt could hear Elektra click some sort of button, after placing what he assumed was some sort of device on to a camera hub. 

“Jammer. It erases the live footage and puts the cameras on this floor on a loop. We should be good, at least from any eagle eyes,” Elektra explained, as she directed them to move once again. 

After a few close calls, the pair finally made it to the office containing the ledger. Finding his way to a safe, Matt used his hearing to cheat the lock open. Once done, he took a seat and allowed Elektra to rummage through its contents. 

“It's not there… it was supposed to be there!” Elektra said, frustration very much apparent. 

Elektra frantically searched all over the room, with Matt simply moving his cane out of the way as she excavated the desk. 

“I take it it's not there?” Matt sarcastically asked. 

“It was supposed to be there! Shit… if they find Gibson we're toast… Matthew we have to go, now!” Elektra said, breath heavy with anxiety.

However, Elektra's pleas were ignored, as Matt had picked up on a faint noise within the walls. Disregarding her panicking, Matt simply followed the buzzing till some sort of block in the wall to the side. “There's an electrical current that gets interrupted here.” 

Registering a chance that she could still get her hands on the ledger, Elektra followed his directions and attempted to manipulate a plant that was placed where Matt had said the interruption was. When she grabbed and turned it, Elektra was flabbergasted at the back wall raising to reveal a hidden room. 

“I'm a genius!” Elektra said, much to the amusement of Matt. 

Rushing into the room, Elektra pilfered the drawers, trying to find what she was seeking. 

“This one,” Matt said, pointing to an unopened drawer, “paper, books.” As Elektra was shuffling through it, Matt began to pick up on some chatter. 

Off in the distance, he could hear a symphony of voices shouting in what he thought was Japanese. _**“13-Kai no shin'nyū-sha. Subete 13-kai ni kojin-teki ni riyō kanōdesu!”** _

“Shit! Elektra, we have to go, now!” Matt said as he took the ledger from her hands. The pair barreled down the hallways, to the elevators. When they tried to use them, however, they were met with no response at all.

“They must've locked down the floor; and, I may not speak Japanese, but I think they know we're here and they're pissed off,” Matt said to Elektra. Backtracking to find another way, the two were caught up in the lockdown; metal gates began to surround the exits, and the main lights went out.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Harry tried to open his eyes and get up but was met with a blistering headache and severe disorientation. Before he could completely stand up, a pair of arms surrounded him in support.

“You always get yourself into the worst possible situations…” a familiar snarky voice whispered in his ears.

Once Harry was able to stabilize, he realized two things. One: he was being held by the annoying, yet endearing… friend in his head, Tom; and two: he was in his headspace.

“What the hell am I doing here?” Harry asked Tom groggily. 

“You were almost captured by the thrall of that man's Legilimency. Luckily, I was able to snap you out of it in time, before he was able to get a good look through your head,” Tom answered, letting Harry go once he was able to stand on his own. 

“Wait, if we're in here, what the hell is going on with my body then?” Harry asked, much to the confusion of both Tom and him. 

“Fascinating… to think, Harry Potter has a guardian angel in his head. Or, could it be you're simply a product of some mental illness Harry suffers from?” A sinister voice said behind them. 

Whipping around, the two were met with Uragiri, who seemed to be wafting in some sort of black smoke from his body. Realizing the possible threat, Tom shoved Harry behind and stood in front of him. “Stay back Harry.” 

Harry was too stunned to even argue with Tom, so instead he chose to question the man in front of him. “How the hell did you get into my head? I looked away before you should've been able to create the connection. Not to mention I still had Tom and my Occlumency shields up!” 

“You were trained by the great Severus Snape in the mind arts yet forewent learning about the mental arts of wizards outside of the grasp of England,” Uragiri said. 

“So, you are a wizard!” Harry said to him, trying to control his reactions. 

Cackling maniacally, the man took a step forward, only to be met with two giant basilisks appearing from nothing. 

“My, my, touchy, aren't we? I must say though, your mental shields are rather beautiful, much like yourself Mr. Potter. But, to answer your question, yes, I am indeed a wizard,” the man creepily said. 

“Why did you want inside my head? And why the hell did you want to meet with me?” Harry pushed. 

“Your queries can both be answered by simply stating this: we want you. Your mind, your body, and… your magic,” the man said, before raising his right arm in the direction of Harry and Tom. 

“We?” Harry whispered, before Tom grabbed him and held him tight. 

“Enough with this idleness,” Uragiri said, raising his right hand, “you'll submit to me… to us now! And no guardian angel will get in my way!” 

At the final inflection of his word, the shadows surrounding the man shot out and attacked the two basilisks. Although they tried to put up a fight, they were no match and were devoured into the blackness. With his shields destroyed, Harry fell over in pain; only for Tom to pick him up bridal style and whisk him away to another corner of his mind. 

“Harry, you have to stay with me! I can't do this without you! I need your power to fend him off, to try and cast him out! I need you Harry!” Tom said to him, genuine concern filling his voice.

Sensing the stakes, Harry intertwined hands with Tom, causing Harry's copper tinged magic to flow from him to Tom. As the process was happening, Uragiri's unhinged laughter could be heard coming their way. When enough power was transferred, Harry's irises were left blood red, the same as Tom's. 

“I've found you!” Uragiri screamed, rushing towards them. His shadows acting as some sort of blackened coat, ready to shoot out should he will it to.

Tom gave one final reassuring look to Harry, before rushing towards Uragiri himself. Tom began to collect the copper magic from Harry in one hand, while gathering his own jade green in the other. As they got closer, the Uragiri's shadows lashed out at a high speed. Tom only had moments to stretch out his arms to defend Harry.

“Get. Out!” Tom growled, as the two magic energies shot out and met the shadows head on. The two opposing magics pushed each other, neither being able to completely overwhelm the other. However, as time went on, Tom was able to achieve some semblance of an upper hand. 

Tom's combined magic was able to push the shadows all the way back to Uragiri's body. But, he still remained, fighting still to stay in Harry's mind. Tom was beginning to grow angry at his presence but was unable to fully push him out. That is, until he felt a hand join his. Looking to his side, he saw Harry, with eyes like him, looking determined. 

“Together?” Harry asked his companion.

“Always.” 

With their combined might, the two were able to give a final push, causing third magic to envelope Uragiri. 

“NOOOOOOO!” Uragiri screamed as he was engulfed in a vortex of red and green. As the lights began to glow brighter, Tom shielded Harry from the impending shockwave. 

“Surface, now!” Tom screamed at Harry as the two were huddled together. 

“What?! What about you!” Harry asked worryingly.

“I'll be fine, this is in your head after all!” Tom cheekily said, a tone so foreign to Harry, coming from Tom. “You need to make sure you're safe out there! I'll be at your side should you need me to do the hard work again!” 

_There's the asshole._

“We're still in your head, remember!” Tom said, before a white light enveloped the two of them. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Opening his eyes wide, Harry was trying to work through the fatigue of dealing with the mental arts. What he could make out, though, was that some large man was holding him. Looking around, he was able to spot Uragiri being carried in a similar fashion to him. They seemed to be on a roof somewhere.

Slowly, Harry jerked his forearm, feeling out if he still had his wand in the holster. _Holy shit, these guys are amateurs. That, or they thought Uragiri would be able to tranquilize me, Harry thought._

Waiting a bit, Harry figured his moment to strike was nigh. Gently flicking his wrist, Harry allowed his wand to free itself from its holster and settle in his hand. Thankfully, it seemed that he was being faced away from the others. 

Feigning sudden awareness, Harry began to unsettle in his captures hold. Noticing Harry was beginning to awake, the man shuffled him, so he could be face to face with him. Cracking a smile, Harry whispered something to get the man's attention. 

Hearing something coming from Harry, the grunt leaned in. 

“You should really make sure to take a wizard's wand away if you're planning on kidnapping them,” Harry said, smirking at the man's surprised expression. Harry then pointed his wand at the man's torso and shouted:

“Stupefy!” 

The man instantly went down, drawing the attentions of all the other men there. They were instantly aware of Harry's state of awareness, looking between him and Uragiri in shock. After shouting something in Japanese, the men drew katanas of all things and readied themselves for a fight. 

“Really? Katanas? Sam would be ecstatic if he saw you guys!” Harry snarked.

“I hope you realize the smart thing to do would be to retreat and regroup with your allies,” Tom said, materializing to his side once more. 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to marvel at the ridiculousness of this,” Harry admitted, before stepping back. _**“Sayōnara!”**_

With that, Harry Apparated to the nearest Ally he could think of. At the sound of a pop, Harry appeared next to Draco, who was embarrassingly lying down on the roof. Said appearance was enough to make the Slytherin squeal and back away, before he realized who it was. 

“Potter! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that! And why aren't you inside with President Samuel!” Draco growled at him. 

Despite his earlier enjoyment of Draco's plight, Harry sobered up and began to explain what had happened to him. Upon discussing the events leading up to his appearance, Draco sent out his Patronus to alert the others on the team of the situation. 

Taking out his rune stone, Harry focused and spoke to Sam. “Sam! You need to come to Draco's position right away! No, I'm not inside! No, I'll tell you what happened when you get up here, come now!”

After a bit, the pair were joined by: Bruce, Virgil, Paul, and, after a bit, Sam. 

“Harry, I need you to tell us what happened,” Virgil calmly said, at the same moment Sam frantically yelled at Harry, asking if he was all right. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine Sam! I just… was in over my head. I didn't expect the guy I was meeting to use some sort of Legilimency on me. He said he was after me in my mind scape, and after that I was able to wake up and escape,” Harry explained to the rest of them. 

As they discussed their next course of action, their mission leader Virgil noticed a lack of something, rather, someone. “Where the hell is Beatrice?!” 

The group all looked around at each other, in some vain attempt to see if someone else knew where she was. Worried, Virgil sent out a Patronus to where she was supposed to be. When no response came, Virgil began to silently panic.

“Point me, Beatrice Bishop,” Virgil said, face falling as he realized his wand was not moving.

“Shit,” Draco said, before receiving a jab to the ribs by Harry. 

“Ahh, so that was her name. Shame about her; though, if the fight you put up is anything like hers, this should be easy pickings,” a gravelly voice said behind the group. 

The whole of the group turned and were greeted with the sight of a man wearing an inky black overcoat, with a hood covering most of his face. And what was left uncovered by the hood seemed to be bathed in some sort of shadow spell, the unnatural sheen of black covering what should've been his mouth area. 

“Who are-” Virgil tried to say, before hearing several pops around the group. 

Harry looked around, recognizing the katana bearing men that had been holding him before. At the sight of the new threat, Draco shoved Harry behind him. At that same moment, Virgil had done the same thing to Sam. 

“Let's not wait any longer,” the figure said; and, although his face was covered, Harry imagined him to have some sort of crazed sadistic face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I was honestly so much fun writing the last half of this chapter. As I said in the Notes up there, I had a hard time writing this. It was originally supposed to start with a flashback to Harry's Hogwarts days, but I realized it wouldn't affect anything so I cut it. It was also supposed to end a bit further in the plot, but I decided to keep up the suspense. The plot is getting juiiiicccccyyyyy. New enemies, old enemies, everyone gets an enemy! Also, I just want to say two things: 1) I apologize about the romanization of the Japanese, the only other language I know is Korean so I had to Google Translate it. and 2) I hope you guys understand the liberties I'm taking with things like Legilimency and other spells. I feel like it adds some potential for action if I... zhuzh it up. Plus, this takes place in the MCU, so like things always have to be extraordinary to their counterparts. Anyway, don't be afraid to leave a comment/criticism/tip. But do be scared if you're going to be an asshole about it!


	10. Chapter 10: Lust V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle between Harry and the mysterious assailants reaches a fever pitch. Meanwhile, Matt and Elektra attempt to escape with the ledger; and Foggy and Karen deal with the fallout of Frank's decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I am so sorry for being so late on updating. I was so held up with Uni, that I wasn't able to keep up. BUT, here's the new chapter. Also, has anyone watched the new season of Daredevil? I couldn't control myself and I binged all of it on Friday and to no surprise I was SHOOK. I loved the character developement and plot, and am lowkey glad not too much was done that may interfere with this story, besides Karen's backstory. So, expect to see S3 stuff for this story in the future, after I go through Defenders. Anyway, enjoy and I own nothing!

Chapter 10: Lust V

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
**xxx - parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
_**xxx – foreign language** _

 

“Get into formation! We have to protect President Quahog!” Virgil yelled out to the remnants of his team. Harry and Draco joined the other three men, forming a protective barrier around Sam. With their wands pointed out, the wizards were ready against the assailants. 

The both sides seemed to be taunting the other, but neither wanting to make the first move. In this momentary pause, Harry was able to get a better look at the katana wielders. 

Looking at their swords, he was able to discern some sort of humming emanating from them; almost as if they were so sharp they were cutting into the breeze of the roof. The handles of the blades seemed to be carved out of Blackthorn wood, if his lessons on magical flora were correct. 

The handles also seemed to be adorned with Japanese characters and old Norse runic lettering. Narrowing his eyes, he was only able to make out a one of them: a rune which roughly translated to ‘suppression’.

Looking back at his opponents, Harry noticed that something, or rather someone, was missing. _Where the hell did Uragiri go? Harry pondered._

“Enough of this! Finish off the unwanted!” The figure in the black cloak screamed. At his proclamation, the suited katana wielders took a fighting stance before rushing.

Getting into their own defensive stances, they all knew it was a fight to survive. So, with his wand readied, Harry set off the fight with the first attack.

“Bombarda!” Harry screamed, a glowing red light dispersing from the top of his Holly wand. Harry readied another spell to fire; but, just as another 'Bombarda’ was on the top of his tongue, Harry widened his eyes.

The suited man, seeing the spell come at him, raised his katana into a defensive posture. Harry didn't understand why he wouldn't get out of the way, until he saw the man make a slicing gesture. As if the spell was nothing more than a piece of parchment, the katana ripped through it. The spell dissipated, as if it was never cast in the first place. 

“What the hell?!” Harry growled, completely shocked at his spell being so easily cast away. “Fine then, let's try something stronger. Bombarda Maxima!”

An even bigger and denser ball of light shot from Harry's wand to the man. However, just like before, the man simply cut through the spell, rendering it useless. 

“Shit…” Harry muttered, becoming distracted by a pained scream behind him. Fearing the worst, Harry quickly swiveled around and was met with a horrifying sight: Bruce, hunched over his adversary, their blade protruding straight through his stomach. 

At the flick of the swordsman’s wrist, the katana sliced through him as if he were butter. The result was an incredibly gory display, with Draco covering his mouth despite the inappropriateness of the moment.

“Bruce! No!” Virgil screamed in rage, turning around and rapidly firing off spells towards his opponent. And, much like with Harry, the attempts were futile as the spells were also nullified. 

“There must be something in those blades! Some kind of anti-magic charm, or a powerful shielding spell!” Draco hypothesized in his panic, realizing they were at a severe disadvantage without magic. 

At his admission, the cloaked man maniacally laughed, coming closer to the fight as he spoke. “There's no point in trying to figure it out, you’ll be dead soon enough. I'll make sure your deaths are quick though, I don't much like to draw those out.”

“Nobody else is dying here!” Virgil said, as he seemed to be readying another spell. Virgil signaled to his remaining four companions by pointing at his wrist. Seeing that he needed time, Harry took it upon himself to come up with a distraction. 

“Who are you?! And why did you and your group attack us and kill two MACUSA agents?” Harry tried to question, hoping to get some sort of answer to what was going on. 

“Hmm… if it were just the two of us Harry, I would gladly answer. But, seeing as we have some unwanted company, I'm going to have to keep you in the dark for now…” The man said sinisterly, tilting his cloaked head to the side. 

Not satisfied with that answer, Harry pressed on. “Well if you can't answer those questions, then how about this one. Why did you send Uragiri after me during the Roxxon Gala?” 

“Ahh, now that I can answer. You see Harry, I was under the impression that Uragiri’s skills in the mind arts were so proficient that they rivalled that of Severus Snape, and thus his student. I see I was wrong,” the man admitted, 

Shocked at hearing the man utter private knowledge about him, Harry tensed up. Thankfully, it seemed that Virgil had finished his spell preparations. With his wand in the air, he began to cast. 

The air around the rooftop began to feel thick as Virgil chanted. A rainbow mass, like that of an oil covered puddle on a rainy day, spread from the tip of his wand outward. 

When it completely enshrouded the side of the roof where the enemies were, Virgil cracked his knuckles, as if he were ready for a fist fight. “At least now we'll be at an even playing field. Good luck using those swords of yours.”

At the tail end of his words, tentacles shot out from the iridescent muck and latched onto the men. As they began to struggle, the tentacles began to swallow their swords, seemingly becoming brittle upon complete engulfment. 

“This spell was developed by the Unspeakables in the Department of Experimental Magic. It creates a semi-sentient mass that feeds on any magic it can find,” Virgil explained to the bewildered assailants. With a bittersweet smirk, remembering how two of his colleagues and friends perished, Virgil twisted his wand. The tentacles responded, with the swordsmen themselves becoming snacks for the blob of magic. 

With a snort the man dripping in black took one step forward, causing Harry and them to tense up.

“An incredible display of magic… Virgil was it? Such a… dark spell for an administration founded on Light Magic practices. But nonetheless, it truly is a testament to our evolution as a species. But…” The man said, before abruptly stopping his sentence.

In an instant, the man disappeared with a pop. Realizing what had just occurred, the others were left wide eyed and shocked. Harry gripped his wand tight, waiting for when the man would appear again. _Where the hell did he Apparate to? If he gets away, we won't be able to figure out-_

In a flash, Harry was able to spot the burgeoning Apparation point. Running before he could think things through, Harry jumped in front of Sam as the man lunged forward. 

A searing pain jolted Harry, as he found himself face to face with the man in the black cloak. Looking down, he was able to make out a silver blade lodged deep inside of him. 

Before he could comprehend what was happening, a distant voice behind him screamed.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“In here!” Matt forcefully whispered to Elektra, ushering her into some meeting room. Crouching down, the two readied themselves for a fight. Ripping up her slit dress, Elektra crouched down along with Matt. 

As the two heard the door open, they waited a moment before taking their chance and pummeling the guards. Though the guards had much more firepower than them, they had the advantage of skill. It wasn't long before Matt and Elektra made quick work of the grunts. 

Once those men were taken care of, the pair made their way towards the uninhabited stairwell. Descending at a rapid pace, the two were forced to choose a random floor, as guards began to storm the stairwell. 

“We need to hide somewhere!” Matt said in a panic, finding that many of the doors of the floor they had chosen to be locked. Elektra bypassed him and made for the doors at the end of the hall. Thankfully, one of the conference rooms was open. 

Ushering Matt inside, Elektra made way to thinking of an escape plan. While pacing, she was stopped by Matt as he listened to a pair of men speaking into their radios. “Shit, we need to do something, fast.”

“Kiss me,” Elektra suggested, though none of her classic flirtations were present. 

“What?!” Matt exclaimed.

“Most people respond negatively to public displays of affection. We need a way to smuggle this out of here,” she said, pointing to the ledger, “and what better way than to have them let us out of their own choice.”

“Look, I'm not kissing you! There's gotta be a-” Matt said, before stopping his sentence upon hearing something in the guards’ radios. 

“What? What's the matter?” Elektra asked, before being shushed by Matt. 

Matt homed in on their radios, picking up the faint speech of a man speaking in English. “There's been an emergency situation in the front of the building. Do not engage with any civilians while armed. We don't need this to come back to us!” 

Matt heard the radios click off and the men rush off, away from the room they were hiding in. Relaxing for a second, Matt let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. 

“What's going on?” Elektra asked, seeing the look on his face. 

“There's some kind of situation at the front of the building. They're telling the guards to fall back so that nobody can put this on them,” Matt explained. 

“Well, that was lucky,” Elektra said, picking the ledger up and making her way to the door, “shall we leave this party, Matthew?”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Are you sure, Mr. Castle?” Karen asked, finding herself discovering even more new puzzle pieces to this mess, “I need to know if you're sure that these aren't your victims.”

“I'm sure, ma'am. I would've remembered… and I don't…” Frank muttered. 

“Well, shit…” Karen whispered, pushing her hair back once again. 

“So, what does this mean for me, ma'am? What's this gonna do…” Frank asked. 

“It means…” Karen said, trying to contemplate what she would tell him next, “it means that… Reyes is trying to dogpile your case even more. That she's going to use you to make a power grab.” 

Chuckling, Frank bashfully smirked before looking back at Karen. “Politics, huh? There's always someone doing shit like this…” 

Pondering what Castle meant, Karen decided to leave it be for now, and ask him the rest of the questions. Once she had made her way through the procedurals, Karen took a sip of water before looking at the notes Foggy had written her. Looking back at Frank, Karen stared at him for a minute. 

“Do you… do you think that we could win against Reyes?” Karen asked Frank, though she didn't expect any answer. 

“You're friends with the lawyers, ma'am; you tell me,” Frank fired back, a joking lilt lacing his voice. 

Before Karen could banter with Frank more, Foggy came rushing in, clearly excited about something. 

“Foggy, what's up?” Karen asked, getting up from her seat. 

“Well, the Nelson in ‘Nelson & Murdock's’ just saved your life,” Foggy said, tilting his head to Castle. Raising an eyebrow, Frank scoffed and then looked back and forth between the two other occupants of the room. 

“What do you mean, Foggy?” Karen asked. 

“Reyes was pushing hard for the death penalty with those Dogs of Hell in Delaware. But, the evidence was circumstantial, and I was able to get it thrown out. Once that option was gone, I was able to talk her down from three life sentences to one. With possibility of parole in twenty-five years-” Foggy said confidently.

“That's amazing, Foggy! Holy shit,” Karen said, before narrowing her eyes at him when she saw his gloomy look.

“What's wrong?” Karen asked. 

“I… I tried to get her and the judge to budge on general-pop, but they wouldn't. He's going to have to stay there while the trial is going on,” Foggy said, sighing. 

“What?! No, we can't let that happen! He'll be a sitting duck in the middle of a shit ton of guys who want to kill him!” Karen reasoned, becoming agitated that they weren't able to have a complete victory. 

“Sounds like party,” Frank sarcastically said. 

“I had to take it Karen, this is the best deal that they would let us have. It's either this, or we let Reyes choose,” Foggy explained.

“It's fine, I'll take it…” Frank said, surprising the other two as they conversed.

“Frank…” Karen whispered, slipping into a voice laced with empathy.

“I can take care of myself ma'am, you don't need to worry,” Frank assured her. The two were caught in each other's sights, as both gave very hard stares to the other. 

“Great! Then all you have to say to the judge is three words: 'Guilty, your honor!’” Foggy instructed him, shocking Karen and Frank from their mutual stupors.

After a minute of talking to Brett, the judge and Reyes were ushered in; At their tails, the guards, and the court stenographer. With all the pieces of the board set, the judge began.

“For the case of The People of New York vs. Frank Castle, does the defendant waive the reading of the charges?” The judge asked. 

“Yes, your honor,” Foggy shortly replied. 

“Well then, how does the defendant plea?” The judge asked. 

Frank stared up at Reyes for what felt like hours, not uttering a word nor indicating he would be immediately answering. The look Reyes gave him was an interesting one, as Frank had thought he'd see her smug. However, she seemed to have a neutral look, as if she didn't care what happened. 

Letting out a sharp breath, Frank briefly looked at Karen, who's eyes softened when they met with his. Thinking back to the conversation they had before, Frank knew what his decision was. 

“I plead… not guilty,” Frank said, much to the horror of everyone in the room, “I will make sure you go down with me. You hear that you witch! You're going to burn.”

Karen and Foggy looked at each other in complete shock, watching as the judge read the rest of the proceedings before stomping off. Shortly after, Reyes stood solemnly, glaring at Frank and them, before doing the same. 

With the two gone, Karen couldn't help but look back at Frank while they were being pushed out by the guards. She wasn't able to read his look, but she knew by glancing at his eyes that her words had caused him to do this. 

Foggy, in his state of panic, grabbed Karen and practically dragged her to the elevator. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! This is the worst possible outcome! Why the hell didn't he say, 'not guilty’! What did you say to him?!” 

“Maybe he wanted to find the truth! Is that so bad?!” Karen fired back, annoyed that Foggy was able to rightly pick up on the situation. 

“Jesus… Karen this is literally the worst possible scenario! We're shackled to this case now!” Foggy said, his tone indicating his frustration. 

As the two stepped out, they were met with dozens of reporters, and even more flashing cameras. 

“Shit…” the both of them said. 

Turning around to go out the back exit, the two were met with Claire's confused face. “What the hell is this that I'm hearing about? That Frank Castle pled not guilty?”

“How the hell did you find out, Claire?” Foggy exasperated. 

“Everyone down here knows! I thought Matt or you'd be able to talk him out of doing that?!” Claire continued, “speaking of which, where the hell is Matt? Why is he not with you?”

“He was forced to go with some client that hired him from before. It seemed like a sticky situation he couldn't get out of, so we let him deal with it while we dealt with this. It was supposed to be simple, but-” Karen explained, before something dawned on her. 

“What's wrong?” Foggy asked. 

“Matt doesn't know… he doesn't know what just happened. We have to let him know before he finds out from someone else!” Karen said, frantically dialing her phone. 

“Take the employee exit so you can get out without having to deal with that mob in the front,” Claire said, leading the pair to the underground parking garage attached to the hospital. 

“Thanks, Claire,” Foggy said without much fanfare. 

“Hey, you guys clearly have enough shit to deal with, it's the least I can do. I hope you guys sort this out with Matt, and that you all make it out of this in one piece,” Claire told them, before rushing back in as her pager buzzed. 

“We'll try…” Foggy said to Claire's rapidly distancing body ran away. 

“Shit! He's not answering!” Karen yelled out to Foggy. 

“He's probably still with that client… We can't do anything about it now, though. We need to go to the office and figure out what the hell to do next!” Foggy said as they made their way towards Karen's car outside. 

In a secluded bathroom, among the chaotic fallout of Frank Castle's decision, was ‘Reyes’ on her phone. To the common eye, it may have seemed as though she were livid over this and was calling her associates. However, that was most definitely far from the truth. 

“Hey, looks like a there's going to be a change of plans. I won't be able to hold them off and nip this damn weed of a man in one go. You better have a backup plan because I refuse to be in this damn muggle skin any longer!” 'Reyes’ angrily said, before hanging up the dial. 

'Reyes’ then walked up to a dirty mirror and watched as 'her’ skin began to shift. Before ‘her’ face started to inevitably droop and decay, 'she’ took out a flask and downed the last of what was in there. Swallowing the offending liquid, 'Reyes’ watched as 'her’ skin began to reform and tighten back to normal. 

“If only you weren't so important…” ‘Reyes’ muttered before walking out.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Harry!” Draco screamed as he dove toward him and Sam, grunting from the force of the fall. Catching him, Draco cushioned the fall as best he could for Harry. Getting up while Paul covered him, Draco tried his best to wait assess how hurt Harry was. 

_Stab wound with knife, bleeding… lots and lots of bleeding. He's losing so much blood… I need… he needs… Draco frantically thought._ His hands made their way to the blade, attempting to pull it. 

“No, don't!” Sam screamed behind him, knocking his hand away from Harry's wound. “If you pull it out, you'll lose the only cap he has on the blood! We have to leave it in him!”

“Then what should we do?!” Draco said back to him as the two other members of their group tried to fight.

“You petulant child! How dare you get in my way! How dare you harm yourself!” the man screamed, directing his anger at Harry's injured form. 

_Why the hell would he care that Harry hurt himself. Wasn't that the point of stabbing him? Sam thought._

The man seemed to be on the cusp of firing a spell at the three men on the ground, when suddenly he was sent flying back by a red light.

“We don't have a lot of time! You need to get him out of here! President, sir! Use the Portkeys to get back to the MACUSA building and get Harry medical attention!” Virgil screamed, firing off another spell at the man, who was able to get back up. 

“What about you two? This man is dangerous, I can't just leave you two here!” Sam yelled.

“Our job is to serve and protect you, Mr. President,” Virgil said matter-of-factly, while Paul swooped in to add his two cents, “and we wouldn't be very good citizens if we let our president stay in harm's way.”

“Paul… Virgil…” Sam whispered. 

“We'll get this asshole back for Beatrice and Bruce, don't worry sir,” Virgil said resolutely. 

Sam nodded at the two, then faced back to Draco, who was trying his best to close Harry's wound. Taking out the stone given to him, he held it in one hand while searching for Harry's with the other. Finding it, Sam quickly handed it to Draco.

“We need to hold onto him tightly. Using the Portkey might injure him further, so we need to be careful,” Sam resolved, his Auror training kicking in. 

Nodding his head in compliance, Draco picked Harry up and leaned him on his shoulder. Holding the stone in one hand, Draco mimicked Sam's gestures. 

“MACUSA Headquarters!” The two screamed in unison, clutching the stones tightly. A warm sensation was the only indication they had before they felt the familiar hook in their navels. Unfortunately, it seemed as though both failed to realize the crack in the stones as they vanished. 

Hearing the familiar whirling of the Portkeys, Virgil hardened his face to look at his opponent. It was two against one, with the advantage being on Virgil and Paul's side. 

“Insolent boy… causing us even more headaches,” the man grumbled. 

Virgil narrowed his eyes, pondering the familiarity in the way this cloaked figure spoke of Harry. Looking over to Paul, it seemed as though he thought the same, as he shrugged. 

“For someone that just stabbed him, you talk about Harry as if he were important to you…” Virgil pointed out. 

“The importance he holds to me is frankly none of your business. You're but a mere Auror caught up in something so much bigger than yourself,” the man said mysteriously. 

“What the hell does that even mean? I figured you were just Roxxon's magical cleanup crew,” Paul asked.

The man went into a fit of laughter, before straightening up and pulling the fabric of his hood. “Working with Roxxon? As if I would lower myself to be a mere grunt, especially not for them.”

Scoffing, the man lowered his hood, revealing his face as the shadows receded. “I grow tired of this useless bantering. It seems as though I must exercise force to rid myself of you men.”

Cracking his neck, the man raised his wand towards the two. “Now, you will feel the might of the True Believers and be blessed by the power of the Beast.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt and Elektra hurried down the steps of the foyer, avoiding the staff while concealing the ledger. When they made their way to the front, the two were met with a gaggle of people huddled in front of the door. Sirens were blaring outside, and the fluorescent lights of the ambulance lit the street with red. Before she could push her way through to see, Matt stopped her, signaling to her that he was listening. 

“Lady said she found him by the trash can. He hasn't responded to anything, guys doped up to high hell if you ask me. There ain't anything looking back out at the world from his eyes.” The disembodied voice Matt picked up said. 

Beckoning Elektra, Matt came close to her name and whispered to her. “They found some guy out in front. They're saying he's unresponsive…”

“Well that's lucky,” Elektra said matter-of-factly, before Matt gave her as hard of a glare as a blind man could give. 

“What?! We needed a distraction and we got one. Besides, they didn't say he was dead, so you can't put this on your conscious!” Elektra said to him, purposefully poking fun at Matt's proclivity to sympathize with the less fortunate.

“Just… stop it, ok? Anyway, once I get you to the limo, I'm going back,” Matt proclaimed. 

“What?! Matt we just got out! We don't have the time or privilege to go around wherever we want! Not when we have the ledger in our hands,” Elektra told him. 

“I have to make sure Harry's ok!” Matt explained.

“He'll be safer away from us. Right now, Roxxon probably has dozens of men right on our asses, ready to take back what we stole. The second you expose a weakness, they'll exploit it!” Elektra reasoned. 

“How much longer are you going to use that excuse to keep me away from him?” Matt said as they trudged along to Elektra's parked limo, her driver opening the door for them. 

Before either got in, Elektra rounded back and stood in front of Matt. “As long as it takes for you to realize these people are not to be messed with. They've killed hundreds of people for much smaller offenses. What do you think is going to happen to me or you? To your friends? To Harry? When they find out what we've taken from them.”

Matt realized the hole he had found himself in and did not answer back to Elektra. 

“You can think whatever you want; that I'm trying to steal you away, or that I'm doing this out of personal spite. But you haven't dealt with these people, not in the way I have,” Elektra said harshly to Matt.

“I've fought the Yakuza! I've beaten them, I-” Matt tried to say, before Elektra cut him off. 

“No, you haven't… you haven't faced them like I have. You haven't faced _them._ The Yakuza are just pawns in all of this…” Elektra icily said, “just get in the car Matthew.”

With that, Elektra strutted her way to into the backseat, leaving Matt hanging out in the open. Uttering a frustrated curse, he joined her and closed the door behind him. 

“Well? You gonna crack that thing open and read it? Or you want me to do it?” Matt said, his humor coming out drier than he had honestly meant to put in. 

Letting her mouth pull into a small smile, Elektra opened the book and flipped through page after page. Coming to the section on the drug and other illegal deals, Elektra was surprised to find several big-name companies involved. 

“Looks like Hell's Kitchen is much more corrupt than I thought,” Elektra muttered, causing Matt to frown. 

Flipping further, Elektra eventually stopped at a section of pages containing a jumbled mess of numbers and Japanese kanji. “What the hell…”

“What is it?” Matt asked. 

“Some kind of code… or encryption. None of this makes any logical sense,” Elektra said. 

“So they write about drugs and human trafficking all day long like a diary, but then they code something else? What the hell are they hiding?” Matt pondered out loud. 

“So, then it's a date for next time?” Elektra cheekily asked, earning a snort from Matt. 

“I'm… not gonna pretend that I'm one hundred percent on board for this whole… Roxxon-Yakuza mess. I'm even less into this-” Matt said, gesturing between the two of them, “but… if it means protecting my city, and all the people I care about, I'll suck it up and work with you.”

With that, Matt made his way outside the limo, taking in the familiar scent of his building. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Arrgh!” Draco screamed, as he forcefully ejected the broken Portkey from his hand, which had left a slight burn mark. Looking over, Draco noticed Sam's hand was in a similar state. 

“What the bloody hell happened with those things?” Draco complained. 

“Looks like the Unspeakables have a lot more experimenting to do to fix this,” Sam said, dusting off his clothing as he took in his surroundings. 

“Do you know where we are?” Draco asked, repositioning Harry's weight on his shoulder. Taking notice of Draco's struggle, Sam walked over to the two British wizards. 

“Let me take over for now, you look like you're about to drop him,” Sam said, urging Draco to follow his orders. 

“I'm perfectly-” Draco tried to fire back, before Harry began to thrash, causing Draco to unintentionally release him. Before he could hit the ground, Sam's wand shot out and he quickly cast an Arresto Momentum. 

Picking him up before the spell wore off, Sam grimaced at Draco. “We're somewhere a bit away from that rooftop at the Yakatomi Building. I think Metro General would be our best bet, I don't think Harry can handle Apparation right now. Unless you know anymore healing spells.” 

Frowning, Draco shook his head. “No… the only spell for healing that I know was the one I tried to use to seal the wound.” 

“Well then Metro General it is,” Sam said, using his wand to cast a Point Me spell to the hospital. 

“Maybe we should try and find the nearest magical district? You have those here, right? Just find an apothecary to help him before we get some assistance,” Draco suggested, unashamedly not wanting to deal with muggle medicine, or rather muggles in general. 

Sam didn't bother turning around, instead keeping the pace as he followed his wand's directions, with Harry leaned on his side. “The nearest magical district is in Chinatown, and that's way too far for Harry.”

Clicking his teeth, Draco decided to be useful and took up Harry other side. Shifting his head, Sam took a good look at Draco now that he had seen him in action. 

“We have a few blocks before Metro General,” Sam said, trying to fill the empty space of silence. To that, Draco merely grunted, not bothering to swivel his head to Sam. 

“Why'd you dive in?” Sam asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“When Harry got stabbed. You dived in like a seeker going for the snitch,” Sam tried to say light-heartedly. 

“Despite our dispositions to not see eye to eye all the time, Harry is one of my only friends. We never really were best friends like he is with Granger, but we had an understanding. I think we could have, though. If it weren't for that waste of magical space Weasley butting his head in,” Draco said. 

“Weasley? As in…” Sam said, voice fading at the end. 

“Yes, Weasley as in the bastard that attacked Harry and his friends years ago. That blood traitor convinced them to go to the Ministry, only for him to attack them. It was because of Harry's father that he was stopped.” Draco explained. 

“Minister Quirrell,” Sam said obviously.

“Yes, and it was the him who figured out it was Albus Dumbledore who convinced Ron Weasley to do it,” Draco explained further. 

“It's crazy to think that such an esteemed person would ever do something like that,” Sam frowned. He was not the one to admit in today's magical political climate, but he admired Dumbledore's past accomplishments. Especially that of defeating Gellert Grindelwald with Newt Scamander. But when he had heard of what was going on in Britain, he had never thrown away so much memorabilia before. 

After their awkward small talk, the two noticed they were there at the hospital. 

“How the hell are we going to explain this?” Draco muttered to Sam. After a pause, Sam took his wand and waved it in front of both of them. After a very uncomfortable waft of magic drenching them, Draco took a look at Sam and saw a much more bloodied up version of the handsome man. 

“Here goes nothing,” Sam said, before sprinting off to the hospital, leaving Draco to stumble and try to compensate for the loss of support for Harry. 

“Please, please! You have to help us! My friend… we were j-just walking home after l-leaving a bar when we were jumped! They stabbed my friend! Please you have to-” Sam hysterically cried to the nurses, who took one look at Harry before sprinting to him. 

Taking him up, the nurses relieved Draco of Harry's form, leaving the two to be attended by another nurse. Ensuring to the woman that they were on beat up a bit, they waited anxiously in the sterile waiting room. 

After what seemed like hours, the pair were alerted by a nurse to Harry's condition. 

“Well, do you want the good news or the bad news first?” the nurse stated to them. 

“There's bad news?!” Sam asked worryingly. 

“Good news first then… well, after we extracted that knife from his stomach, we were able to stitch him up. Whichever one of you tried to stop the bleeding helped clot the wound enough for you to get him to us,” both men let out a sigh of relief, before bracing themselves for the inevitable bad news. 

“What's the bad news, Miss?” Sam asked. 

“It's Claire…” she introduced herself, before continuing on, “and the bad news is that while you did clot the wound, the wound itself is the real issue. Punctured small intestine, blood loss, internal bleeding; not to mention having to put him under.” 

“Under?! Why the hell does he need to be put under?” Draco asked, not caring for tact. 

“Because whatever the hell that knife was dipped in, or soaked in, or… whatever, is causing him to seize, badly. We were able to temper it with sedatives and strong narcotics, but it's not looking good until we can test his blood,” Claire explained to them. 

At this, the two frowned, with Draco getting so worked up he slammed his fist into the nearest desk. 

“Damnit… damnit, damnit, DAMNIT!” Sam practically screamed while pacing. 

Sympathetic to two people who obviously cared about the guy, Claire decided to try and calm them down. “Unless either of you want to admit your undying love and or familial bond to Harry in there, is there anyone we need to call. Just in case.”

Sam and Draco looked at each other, before turning to Claire. “There's one person.” 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

He hadn't been to Number Four Privet Drive in over a decade. He wasn't too sure as to why he was here, or why the sky was blank white. Harry really wasn't sure of anything that was going on at this moment. Walking forward, Harry trotted through the neatly cut grass, always courtesy of him, to the front door. Holding his hand out, he grabbed the metal knob before twisting it. 

Opening the door, Harry took one step in before being flashed a bright light. When he was aware of his surroundings again, Harry was met with an unfamiliar inside. Instead of sickeningly ordinary decor, pristine walls, and sunken in furniture was a barren sterile interior. Covered in cobwebs, the floor seemed to twist and turn, with multiple doors adorning some of the walls. There was some sort of green tint to everything as well. 

Walking further in, Harry seemed to be operating on autopilot as he took one step after another towards a specific room. Standing in front of it, Harry examined the door. Though there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary, when Harry looked to the side, he saw a plate that read a very familiar name: Tom Riddle. 

Widening his eyes, Harry again looked at the door. Grabbing the knob in his hand, he twisted it and opened the door. Talking a step in, Harry was once again met with a bright light. Once he came too again, Harry noticed he wasn't inside the room he expected. In fact, he was inside a space he knew all too well. Looking down, Harry began to panic as he realized he was once again a child locked inside of a cupboard under the stairs. 

In a fit of fear, Harry began to bang of the door, begging for someone to let him out. He banged and banged and cried till his voice gave out. _No… no, no, no, no! I can't be back here, not again! I got out, my father got me out… I'm out… I'm not trapped anymore… I'm free… I'm not here… I-_

“You'll wake it up if you make any more noise,” a chilling childlike voice outside said, muffled by the door that seemed to separate them. 

“Hello? Who's out there? Please, you have to get me out!” Harry's childlike voice pleaded to the other child there. 

“You're safer in there, Harry. It can't get to you if you're locked away from it,” the voice said in a familiar deadpan tone. 

“Tom?” Harry whispered. 

“I won't let it get to you, Harry. So you have to go back. Let me take care of this for you,” Tom said, his voice becoming more distant as he continued. 

“No! Tom don't leave me! Please don't leave me alone in here! Please!” Harry pleaded, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

Defeated, Harry took up a fetal position, and cried out for someone to save him from this hell. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt was reeling from the news. He couldn't even think about how wrong tonight had gone. Had he stayed, maybe he could've convinced Frank to take the deal. Elektra was resourceful and cunning, she should've been able to do it; without him. 

But she didn't, and he went along with it. And now, his law firm was stuck defending a mass murderer in front of the entire world. He was sick to his stomach; he had allowed the thrill- no, he had allowed the temptation of crime fighting to cloud his judgment. 

He splashed his face with water, trying in vain to wash away the guilt and frustration those few words Foggy had told him at his doorstep invoked. Wiping it off, Matt readied himself for bed when he realized his lover wasn't here. Frowning, Matt tried not to think about him being in danger. Sighing, he got into bed and almost pulled the cover over himself until his phone began to ring out a familiar name. 

“Claire? What's wrong? What are you calling this late?” Matt groggily asked. 

“... Matt. There's been an accident. I would've let someone call on the hospital phone, but since it's you I thought I should tell you right now,” Claire explained. 

“What?! What happened? Who's hurt?” Matt asked, flailing out of bed to get clothes on, fearing the worst. 

“It's… it's your boyfriend, Harry. Two of his friends brought him in a while ago. Matt… he was stabbed and is currently under heavy-” Claire tried to explain before the line cut out. 

Matt couldn't move for a painful, horrible second; A second he would trade to fight dozens of assassin's for.

It took him a moment, but when he was finally able to snap out of it, Matt put on his clothes and rushed out the door, calling a cab with his phone. Once it appeared after an excruciating wait, Matt slammed the door shut getting in, shakily telling the driver to go to Metro General. 

Once he arrived, the cab driver offered to escort who he perceived to be a helpless blind man to the front; but, he was completely ignored as Matt ran inside. Following the familiar tone of Claire's voice, Matt was able to locate her, and two others. 

Turning their heads to him, no one of the three were able to say a word. 

“Where- What- how is he?” Matt said, choking up a bit as he listened to the labored breathing of his love.

“Matt…” Claire muttered, before leading him to sit next to Harry's unconscious form. Completely ignoring the other two parties in the room, Matt took Harry's hand and began to pray.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“P-please, don't- don't-” Paul pleaded, before choking on his own blood as he was stabbed by a scythe like construct, effectively ending his life. 

“Paul…” Virgil weakly said, trying to crawl away from the monster that had ended up killing his entire squad. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” The man shrouded in darkness taunted, before kicking Virgil to face belly up, causing his to cough up blood. 

Kneeling down, the man began to trace his blackened finger along Virgil's bloodied face. “Don't worry, I won't kill you, not anymore… I think you've more than proven yourself to be capable; to being worthy. You serve your President so well, I can only imagine how good of a servant you shall be when my master finally gains a vessel in this realm and blesses us converted to his all-encompassing shroud of darkness…”

Shadow tentacles begin to engulf Virgil as his iridescent ones did to those long-gone warriors from early in the night. And at the snap of the man's fingers, the two vanish from the rooftop, leaving two dead bodies as the only witnesses to the awesome power of the _Beast._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind me taking liberties with the villain group, since they are from the comics. I wasn't sure how to go about the Hand having any interest with Harry, since Elektra is here, but they were the perfect side villains to do so. Also, since they're here, I have a better grasp on how to proceed with the story through the rest of S2-Defenders-S3. Anyways, feel free to comment! Just don't be mean!


	11. Chapter 11: Gluttony I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remains out of commision, and his two worlds end up colliding. As they clash, Harry battles for his own survival as the deadly effects of his stabbing threaten his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a Happy Halloweiner! For this chapter, the last bit was re-written a lot, since I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted Voldie to use the incredibly powerful "Knowing-things-for-the-sake-of-plot" spell. Spolier: he did. But only so I could set up some stuff for him next chapter :)
> 
> Also, excuse the maybe-OOC-ness of Matt, I had a tough time trying to think about how he'd react to someone he was dating being in that situation (since I don't really read his comics. Really, the only comics from Marvel I read are the Young Avengers) on top of having superhero insight into the entire situation.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter! and I of course own nothing!

Chapter 11: Gluttony I

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
**xxx – parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
**_xxx – foreign language_**

 

~ “I don't know why Ron's being such a prick! Ever since he found out I could speak to snakes, he's been giving me nasty stares every time we're near each other!” Harry complained, swinging his legs as he sat on top of the desk. 

It was only Harry's second year at Hogwarts and he was already the talk of the town. During the Gryffindor-Slytherin Defense class, Draco had the brilliant idea of summoning a snake to spook Ron. To no one's surprise, it worked, and Ron screamed like a banshee. But what had everyone and their mum gossiping was what happened afterward. 

Before Voldemort, in the guise of Quirrell, could banish it, the snake pounced at Ron. Fearing for his friend, Harry screamed at the snake to stop; only to realize he hadn't spoken in English, but in Parseltongue. 

“Well, perhaps Mr. Weasley attributes that ability to Dark magic, and as such attributes that to you,” Voldemort calmly said while grading papers, as he watched his adopted son pout.

“But you've always said magic is magic! That good and evil don't exist when it comes to it!” Harry fired back in a childish manner, causing Voldemort to give him a stern glare. 

“Not everyone believes in that notion, Harry. Besides, don't you think this is a sign you should be seeking out better companions? If this is all it takes for him to throw you to the side, perhaps it's best if you did as well,” Voldemort reasoned. 

“But fath-” Harry began to say, before cutting himself off, not wanting to say that particular word. However, it seemed as though his slip up was noticed, as Voldemort stopped his movements and sat still.

“Get off that desk Harry,” Voldemort snipped, with Harry following his order, “and you should be heading back to the Slytherin dorms before curfew. You wouldn't want to run into a prefect on your way down.”

“Of course… goodnight…” Harry whispered, as he walked out of Voldemort's office. 

“Sleep well, Harry,” Voldemort said to himself, as Harry had left by then. 

“Are you really leaving this year?” Harry practically shouted at Voldemort as he came barreling into his office.

“Manners, Harry. I've told you to knock before you come into my office. Just because you're my son doesn't mean you can act like a hooligan at school,” Voldemort scolded Harry. 

“Sorry… but seriously, are you really going to replace Minister Fudge?” Harry asked sharply. 

“Where did you hear that?” Voldemort pushed.

“So, it is true?” Harry asked. 

Sighing, Voldemort stood up from his desk and walked over to Harry's side. Motioning him to take a seat, the both of them sat in silence for a minute, before Voldemort began to speak. 

“...Yes, I've been asked to consider taking the position. They think the masses will rally around someone who's familiar with all corners of Magical Britain,” Voldemort explained to Harry. 

“Congratulations! I'm glad they're finally appointing someone competent!” Harry excitedly chirped. 

Ever since Harry's first year, his father had taken up politics in addition to his teaching job at Hogwarts. He sought to represent those who were severely oppressed by the ministry, as he knew they would latch on to anyone who would listen. So, he became known to every vampire, werewolf, and anything else you could find in a Care of Magical Creatures textbook. He championed creature rights, and he had even spearheaded the overhaul of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

Then, during his fourth year, Minister Fudge had been caught in a scandal. He had used the Triwizard Tournament as a way of smuggling in illegally obtained magical artifacts from France and Bulgaria. It was Voldemort who had caught him in the end, although that was due to him fabricating the entire scandal in the first place. All for instigating a power play that would end with Voldemort in the biggest seat of power in Britain.

At Harry's congratulatory babbling, Voldemort chuckled and rubbed Harry's head, much to his embarrassment. It had been several years since he had taken Harry in from those muggle scum. With his Horcrux lodged deep within his mind, Voldemort had tried his best to keep the boy close physically but distanced emotionally. He reasoned any sentiment would be a weakness his enemies could exploit.

But, his goals of revenge and wrath had begun to wane, and in their place was an ambition to remake the Wizarding World. And so, the thought of a legacy, of someone carrying on his goals and aspirations, was too great of a temptation. Which was why he had begun to train Harry in all things magical; and why he began to endear the boy. He was a prime heir and would inherit the world Voldemort would carve out from the dying old one. ~

Voldemort was never one to occupy the dirty and grimy corners of the Earth. He had people to do that for him; but it seemed as though this particular individual warranted Voldemort getting his hands dirty. For in front of him was the man he had caught in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sneering at him, Voldemort weighted the options he had:

He could Rennervate the man and claw through his mind for information; or, he could simply Imperio information out of him.

Seeing as he was running the risk of being caught by MACUSA, or worse, his own government, Voldemort decided to go for the messier first option. Besides, he hadn't had the chance to do these kinds of things anymore. He so dearly missed being able to shred through an unguarded mind. 

Reminiscing put aside for now, Voldemort pointed his yew wand at the man and cast the spell. 

“Rennervate!” 

At the utterance of the incantation, the man jolted awake. His eyes were comically wide as he swiveled his head to try and ascertain where he was. 

Cautiously staring, Voldemort used his wand to keep the man's head still. Eyeing the brand on his neck, sliced through thanks to his spell, Voldemort cleared his throat.

“I hope you realize how lucky you are. Normally, I wouldn't bat an eye at someone as pathetically inept as you. However, that mark on your neck and that name in your head have persuaded me to keep you alive,” Voldemort explained to the man.

“I'll never-” the man tried to sneer, before Voldemort rolled his eyes and cast a Silencio on him. 

“I said you were lucky to be alive, not that you had permission to speak. You are in the presence of the British Minister of Magic, so I expect nothing but respect,” Voldemort snidely bit, before continuing on, “so stay still while I rip through that grease drenched head of yours.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt silently sat on the chair Claire had provided him with, stroking Harry's hand as he lay in the hospital bed. He hadn't left his side since he had arrived at the hospital, despite Claire trying to goad him into getting some air. He was solely focused on staying by Harry's bedside, even if it meant sacrificing precious sleep.

“Harry wouldn't want you to be doing that to yourself, you know,” a posh voice behind him stated. It took a second, but he was able to recognize the arrogant tone of Draco, Harry's friend. 

Matt refused to say anything, merely acknowledging he had even heard Draco by turning his head ever so slightly. He usually tried to avoid bringing out the cold shoulder, but right now, he wasn't very fond of Draco and the other guy. _They brought him in like this, so that must've meant they were capable of preventing this, Matt selfishly thought to himself._

Matt knew that was a simpleton way of thinking about it. He knew it was stupid to pout and ignore them, but he wasn't really thinking rationally at the moment. In truth, Matt wouldn't have cared if the two just left Harry to him. He was tempted to just get them to leave, but Matt tried to consider what Harry would've wanted.

So, instead of losing his cool, Matt decided to be a mature and confront the issue at hand. 

“What… what happened?” Matt asked the other occupants of the room. Awaiting an answer, Matt was nearly driven insane by the incessant ticking of the wall clock. Their silence was telling, but he needed to know.

“Well… w-we were at a bar, and well… some guys were harassing us, so Harry stepped in. When we left, they jumped us, and Harry got in between me and a knife they attacked with…” Sam weakly explained, cringing as he saw the look of absolute rage bubbling in Matt's face. 

“A bar?! That's bullshit! You were with him at the Roxxon Gala! You were there with him and you let this happen. You're the reason he's in a fucking hospital bed and in a coma!” Matt yelled, not thinking of the consequences of his words. 

“Well… I- wait… how did you know we were at the Roxxon Gala together?” Sam questioned, suspecting Matt's explosive outburst at them. 

“It doesn't matter how I know, that's not important! What's important is that he somehow went from some fancy party to being stabbed! How the hell do I know that something you've done didn't cause this?” Matt fired back, realizing his slip up.

“No, it does matter that you know! Cause you know what?! Yes, we were at that gala, but there were six people. Six. People. That knew he was going to be there, and you were not one of them. So, let me ask you, how the hell do I know that something you've done didn't cause this?!” Sam angrily said, getting up to face Matt, who did the same. 

“I'm his boyfriend! Why the hell would I-” 

“Well I'm his friend! I would never let him-” 

And the two went on, with Draco standing off to the side, ignoring their idiotic pissing contest. Focusing in on Harry, Draco frowned. _It's my fault he's like this… if I had just reacted in time, he wouldn't have had to get in the way, Draco thought._

Unbeknownst to Draco, Claire and some other night nurses had to step in and separate the two men.

“Enough! Both of you, out!” Claire yelled, with two nurses escorting Matt and Sam out. Looking back, Claire eyed Draco leaning against the wall. Walking towards him, Claire tried to snap him out of his obvious pondering. 

“So, you weren't going to step in with Matt and your friend?” Claire asked him. 

Not even bothering to face her, Draco droned out his answer. “They're grown men, they can handle themselves, including their emotions. Not my fault Pres- Sam wants to pick a fight with Harry's lover…” 

Sighing, Claire combed her hair with her fingers before leaving the pouty blonde with her patient. Stepping out into the hallway, Claire looked between the two ends of the hallway the staff had put the two men in. Groaning, she marched her way towards Matt, who was sitting in the waiting area with his head in his hands. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Darkness. Darkness was all he had with him, a blanket that has always enshrouded his life. He knew it was only a short while after Tom, or at least what he thought was Tom, had left, but he was experiencing it as if time was all frozen. Curled up, he was shaking uncontrollably. _Tom knows how… I don't like this place… why did he leave me… Harry thought._

“Because he doesn't really care for you… all you are to him is a pretty little holder…” a distorted voice said behind him, from the recesses of darkness that covered his cupboard. Startled, Harry sat up to see where, or who, spoke.

In an instant, Harry was once again transported to another place: some sort of temple. Harry looked around, noticing the emptiness and sterility. When he looked out the window, he realized why that was so. All that he could see was black; no light, no land, no sea, no anything. 

“It's fascinating, isn't it?” The same distorted voice said, causing Harry to turn around, only to find nothing, “Darkness. Always depicted as empty, soulless, cold. And yet, you'd never realize how wrong that is.”

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” Harry screamed into the emptiness, though he most certainly did not feel alone. 

“Darkness is… alive, just as light is. It's enveloping and warm; it has a soul,” the voice continued on, ignoring Harry. 

“Who. Are. You?” Harry said, getting angry at whatever it was that was ignoring him. 

“And most importantly, it always has it's fill. Light will always rely on others to keep it alive, and once it has nothing, it's snuffed out. But darkness… darkness is always there. It has always _been_ and will always _be_. It is the _consumer_ , and nothing can ever hope to escape it's grasp,” the voice droned on. 

“And now… it wants _you!_ ” The room Harry was occupying suddenly began to be consumed by the dark. The walls were overcome by shadows, as was the floor. Harry tried to escape but was met with more darkness. Cornered, Harry was helpless as the darkness encircled him. 

However, before the darkness could completely take Harry, a hand grabbed his tightly. Looking up, Harry widened his eyes as Tom met him. 

“Tom?! What's… what's going on?!” Harry asked frantically. 

“I thought I told you to wait in the cupboard,” Tom said to him with a scolding manner. 

“Tom! I really don't think now is the time for that! Now what the hell is this?” Harry ground out, pressing himself closer to Tom as the darkness began to shrink his safe haven even more. 

“Not enough time or room to explain! You need to focus on getting us to another part of your mind!” Tom said to him. 

Nodding his head, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Thinking about a safe place, Harry scrunched his eyebrows as hard as he could. Holding onto tightly to Tom, Harry braced himself as he felt the world shift around him. Opening one eye, Harry was met with cold gray marble and green banners. 

“Excellent choice, I must say,” Tom said, handsomely arrogant as always. 

Glaring at Tom, Harry didn't even need to say anything, as the other knew full well it was time to come clean. 

Giving Harry a soft look, Tom walked to the fireplace as he answered Harry's inevitable queries. “I do not know what, or who, that voice is. When I kept you in the… cupboard, it was for your safety. I had to hide you in a place it would never expect to look for you. And what better place than that monstrous hell hole of a former abode.”

“But why, Tom? And where the hell did it even come from?” Harry pressed on. 

“I theorize that it is some form of magical parasite, meant to be passed on through contact with some sort of magical conduit, which I believe is how you've come to acquire it. When that blasted wizard stabbed you, by the way that was incredibly stupid of you to do and you should not attempt anything like that ever again, it must have infected you,” Tom explained to Harry, going on a slight tangent to scold Harry.

“And to why I hid you? Well, as I've always said, my first and foremost thought is to ensure your wellbeing. I thought if I hid you somewhere you would never go, it wouldn't be able to find you. Unfortunately, it seems as though I miscalculated how sentient it was,” Tom finished.

“So then how do we get rid of it?” Harry asked Tom. 

“We would need to purge it from your being,” Tom said, laying out his answer. 

“How would we even do that?” Harry countered. 

“I think I may have a solution to that,” Tom said, eyeing the red flames of the burning yew. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You don't have to say it, I know I lost my cool…” Matt admitted before she had a chance to speak. 

“Well that's saves me about three minutes. You want to waste another five and tell me what the hell is going through your head right now?” Claire said, taking up the seat beside him. 

“I got angry at Harry's friends because… they shouldn't have gotten him into a situation like that! And on top of that, they were lying!” Matt exclaimed to Claire. 

“Well Matt, you do realize they still brought him in, right? Hell, they brought him in partially stitched up. Even if they lied, they obviously care as much as you do,” Claire said, “so, there's that. Now, you want to explain what else is bothering you?”

“Earlier tonight, I was at a gala for this company named Roxxon. I found out that Harry was there, but I couldn't really get to him. And then I… got distracted and lost track of them,” Matt explained. 

“Distracted as in?” Claire asked.

“Important business…” Matt said, sensing that she had read into his insinuation correctly. 

“So, does your… important business have anything to do with Harry getting hurt?” Claire pushed further. 

“We- I was there to get something of Roxxon's. But then… I didn't even consider the consequences of my actions… I knew there was a possibility of dangerous people coming after Harry, and yet I still went along with it,” Matt said dejectedly. 

“…so, you blame yourself for what happened to him,” Claire assumed, taking Matt's silence as confirmation. 

“Well, you want my advice? Cut the shit, because Harry doesn't need any of that. He needs his friends, and he needs his _boyfriend_ , to be there for him,” Claire said, getting up to go and check on Harry, leaving Matt to mope on his own. 

On the other side of the hall, Sam leaned against the wall, pouting at Matt from across the hallway. He knew he hadn't been exactly civil, considering he had gotten into it with Harry's beau. Sighing, Sam made his way back towards Harry's room, only to be met with Matt doing the same. The two stood at the doorway, as if waiting for the other to budge. _No use in pissing off Harry's boyfriend, not when he's lying in that bed, Sam thought._

“I- I'm sorry for getting heated. I just… I lost my cool,” Matt admitted.

“No worries… I think with the situation at hand, it's warranted to lose your cool, but I just want to… say that I'm sorry for insinuating you had anything to do with this,” Sam replied back. 

“I'm sorry as well,” Matt agreed, putting his hand out, waiting for Sam to shake it. When the other did so, they both nodded and proceeded to enter the room. 

Sensing the other two had come back, Draco turned his head and sneered. “Are you two done acting like troglodytes?”

Neither answered, and thus the three entered into an uneasy silence as they all, well rather two, watched Harry. Matt chose to listen in on his heart beat, it's calm not comforting him in the slightest. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“We're going to do what?” Harry exclaimed, looking at Tom as if he were a madman. 

“It's simple magical biology, Harry. It's the reason why children have random outbursts of accidental magic,” Tom explained, taking on a scholarly tone. 

“Yeah! Because they're children! It takes years for magical control to develop, and you want me to just blow mine to hell!” Harry ranted.

“This leech is using your own control against you! It's pushing and pushing against your veins, trying to pop you like a balloon with your own magic! If we make an outlet to relieve the pressure, then you don't have to worry about what we do next!” Tom argued, waiting for Harry to dispute him. 

“Then what happens to me- to us, after? Because last I checked, no one's ever learned to control their magic in a day! I won't be able to leave my fucking apartment because I might level the city block if I get into a fit! It'll take years for me to fix my control!” Harry yelled. 

“I will take years of you relearning control over you being dead!” Tom angrily screamed, instantly shocking Harry into silence, “…you are _all I have_. There isn't anyone else in here but you and me. We have been together since we were children; I refuse to allow some parasite to cut your life short.”

“Tom…” Harry whispered somberly, causing Tom to look away from him, “Ok… ok. How do we do this, then?” 

Taking Harry's hands within his own, Tom put his forehead onto Harry's, causing them to become intimately close. 

“Think back to how you- we felt… back when we were children. Running from Dudley, healing our wounds from Vernon, bracing ourselves for Petunia's kitchen of nightmares…” Tom whispered to Harry, “take that fear… that desperation… and use it. Focus all your magic and weave your rage into it; push it out by force.”

Harry was deathly still, focusing on those long-buried emotions. The more he dug into his subconscious, the more his magic seemed to bunch up around him.

Then, like a coiled snake pouncing on its prey, Harry's magic shot out from within him, lashing out in all directions. Emerald green lights encircled his mindscape, snapping at all traces of that darkness within Harry. 

As it continued to attack the invader, Harry faltered to the ground. Holding him tight, Tom whispered something he couldn't understand, as the world went white. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Matt had wallowed for hours, sitting by Harry's side. It was nearly sunrise, and neither Matt nor Draco had gotten a wink of sleep. Sam, on the other hand, had excused himself an hour prior after receiving an urgent phone call.

As the sun shined through the window, the golden rays adorned Harry with a crown of light. Draco knew Matt wouldn't be able to see this, so a rather selfish part of him was glad only he could see Harry like that. 

But that peacefulness evaporated, as Harry began to violently convulse. Matt and Draco stood up immediately, with Matt finding his way to the door to call for help. Draco went to his bedside immediately, trying to hold him steady as the bed itself began to shake. That was when Draco took notice to the ambient magic in the room. 

He scrunched his brow, trying to figure out where it was coming from, only for him to realize the source was Harry himself. He peaked at Matt, who was still trying to get assistance from the staff. Realizing he didn't have much time, he took out his wand and quickly used a diagnostic spell.

When it was complete, Draco immediately hid the parchment that was conjured, as the doctors ran into the room, ushering the two out. Directing Matt to the waiting area, the two sat with worry on their faces. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Quirrell!” Sam whispered into the building, trying to be cautious after the events of the night prior. 

Not hearing a response, Sam took out his wand. “Homenum Revelio!”

With the spell cast, a mist began to form in Sam's vision. From that, he was able to make out two outlined figures in the floor above. One that seemed to be seated, and the other standing. Cautiously walking towards the staircase, he made every attempt to be as quiet as possible. 

Thankfully, he wasn't met with any deadly wizard ninjas on the way up. Making his way to the room at the end of the hall, Sam made sure to keep his wand at the ready. When he arrived at the door, he heard the stifled sounds of talking. Slowly opening it, he was greeted by Voldemort glaring at the tied-up man. 

Turning his head, Voldemort frowned before scolding Sam. “Samuel, I hope you don't treat other foreign dignitaries in this manner. I understand that you've just gotten back from your mission-” 

“Quirrell-”

“-you should at least notify your staff of your whereabouts-”

“Quirrell-”

“-but now that you're here, we need to discuss your little operation. I caught this man sneaking into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement moments after you and Harry had left. When I interrogated him, I discovered that-”

“Quirrell! Harry's in the hospital!” Sam screamed out.

The room became cold, with Voldemort staring in silence. That is, until the man in the chair began to laugh uncontrollably. The two leaders turned their heads swiftly, both feeling rage bubble up under the surface.

“And here I was thinking I fucked it up!” The man said between laughing bouts. 

“What the hell do you mean?!” Sam said, charging up to the man. 

“There's no point in further querying this man. It seems as though whoever he's aligned with has afforded him incredible mental fortitude. I was barely able to even scratch the surface of his mind with him actively keeping me out,” Voldemort interrupted in a low voice, with said man looking up slowly, before smiling.

“Now, what do you mean… Harry's in the hospital,” Voldemort said coldly, ignoring the man's giggling in the background. 

“We were ambushed… these men, I think they might've been Japanese wizards, attacked us after Harry was attacked himself. We tried to fight them off, but it got ugly and Harry ended up…” Sam explained, unable to finish with Voldemort's deathly gaze. 

“This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission, how did it end up-” Voldemort tried to say, before Sam cut him off. 

“I don't know!” Sam yelled, before continuing, “they got to Harry first. He was able to escape and call for the rest of us, but whoever ambushed us seemed to be targeting Harry.” 

“How so?” Voldemort asked. 

“They went after Harry during the gala. One of their allies must've infiltrated Roxxon and got to him. He got away, but even then, the other guys who showed up seemed to be actively avoiding getting him involved, or at least trying to get everyone else out of the picture,” Sam explained. 

Walking over to the snickering man, Voldemort grabbed the back of his head and pulled, exposing his neck. “Did any of them have this mark?” 

Scarred on his neck was what seemed to be a horned skull with tentacles protruding from its open mouth. Bending over to get a good look at it, Sam surveyed the tattoo over and over against his memory of last night. 

“Come a little closer and I can give you a kiss!” The man cackled, eyeing Sam like a predator despite his restraints. 

Glaring at the guy, Sam straightened up before facing Voldemort. “If any of them did have it, it must've been much less obvious than this piece of shit. I'll get the Auror squad to put the word out about it, see if anyone comes forward with information.” 

“I suggest keeping score of who you tell. If what you say about these people infiltrating the Roxxon Corporation is true, then I wouldn't put it past them to have their hands in your circle as well,” Voldemort suggested.

“I'll call the Aurors I trust and get them to pick him up,” Sam said to Voldemort.

Turning to face the man, Voldemort calmly assessed the room as he contemplated their next course of action. “Perhaps you could leave him in my care.” 

“What? Why?” Sam asked. 

“I wasn't able to make any substantial headway searching through his mind… but perhaps I can ask for a colleague of mine to assist in opening him up,” Voldemort once again suggested, “he's one of the most powerful Legilimens in the world. Not even I could withstand an assault by him.”

“You sure you want to involve more people from your side? The International Confederation is all but ready to brew up a storm about this. They might throw a fit if they find out we've been going behind their backs,” Sam said. 

“If he is working for the group I saw in his mind, going behind everyone's backs is going to be the only way for us to not get the Japanese ministry involved,” Voldemort explained. 

“Wait, you know who he's working for?! Why the didn't you say that earlier!” Sam exclaimed. 

Shooting a glare at Sam, Voldemort walked by him and crouched down, speaking to the room despite facing the man. “They’re supposed to be a group of highly trained and adept muggles and wizards that operate out of Japan. Or at least, that's how they were described to me as I… travelled during my sabbatical. Nobody knows how many members they have, but what is known is that they have a _powerful_ hold in both worlds.”

“What are they called?” Sam asked, gulping down in anticipation. 

**_“Shin no Shinja_** ; the True Believers,” Voldemort said, which elicited an angry growl from the man, much to the two other men's confusion. 

“You have no right to even utter that name! You're nothing but false shepherds leading around the masses of the magical world!” The man screamed, “those who stray from _His_ darkness are dead to us. The fact that you're still alive and standing right now is blessing; of which has now run its course.” 

Rolling his eyes, Voldemort looked at him expectantly. “Has it now? You're in a room, bound I might add, with the Minister of Magic and the President of the American Magical Congress. What could you do against the two of us?”

The man glared at the two, before smirking; as unbeknownst to them, a looming shadow began to form behind them. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Gibson. I thought you wanted to be a trustworthy ally. We gave you everything you asked for: more money, more security, more women. Yet, you chose to allow yourself to be attacked and used against us.” Hirochi drawled, opening a box of severed fingers, which signaled his two guards to shoot Gibson's now defunct ones. 

“P-please… I have nothing but respect for you all… I know I-I was given privileges, and I still failed, but…” Gibson tried to explain, but failing to do so as most of his words came out as a sniveling mess. 

“Enough quivering, Gibson!” Hirochi sternly yelled, causing Gibson to tense up even more, “now… seeing as your indiscretion has led to the theft of our ledger… I must befit the crime to the offender.” 

At his final word, Hirochi pulled out what looked to be a ceremonial blade. Beckoning one of his guards, he motioned for him to grab Gibson and bring him forward. Descending into hysterics, Gibson tried to escape the guards grasp, but failed. With his arms forced on the table, Hirochi smirked before bringing down the blade, severing both of Gibson's arms below the elbow. 

Gibson was allowed to flail as he bled out all over the place. When he finally took his last breath, one of the guards went to grab Gibson, while the other grabbed both of the guards. They dragged the bodies out of the room, leaving Hirochi alone. Picking up the phone, he dialed a number and waited for the other side to pick up. 

**_“There's been a complication sir… it seems as though we've been compromised on all fronts… yes… I understand, yes… of course sir…”_** Hirochi conversed, before hanging up the phone. 

On the other side of the line, a man solemnly stood among the carcasses of several predatory animals. Covered in the blood and entrails of the bear he had hunted a week ago, the man clicked his tongue before going back to task of gutting it. 

**_“Idiots, letting our secrets be stolen from under their noses. I have no time to fix their mess, yet they ask of me. Idiots…”_** the man muttered to himself, digging in the body further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just mention it now, but would you guys be interested in an FFXV x HP crossover story? (slash of course, cause we love all things GAY in this house!) I've been bouncing around an idea for that and another one for an HP x BNHA story.
> 
> But worry not, if you guys are interested in them but like this story being sorta consistently updated, I won't start either till I get through like 3/4 of this story, which won't be for a bit.
> 
> Well, that's it for the end notes, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and the story as a whole! If you want, don't forget to leave a comment! But don't be an asshole!


	12. Chapter 12: Gluttony II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to transition as Harry recovers from his attack. Friends become enemies and those who can be trusted begin to dwindle as the True Believers begin to orchestrate their palns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's sad that the day I finally get off my ass to post this, such shitty news happens :( Considering the S3 finale felt very conclusive, I had a feeling DD might get axed too. But, hopefully this is just a transition period and it gets brought back for Disney's streaming service.
> 
> ANYWAY, on a slightly more positive note, things are moving on a bit in the story. Although I'm quickly realizing this arc is becoming very filler-y/transitory to the next. Hopefully, the next parts of Gluttony are more exciting for you guys :) 
> 
> Also, slight warning, but Harry and friends have some drinks they probably shouldn't be having in a flashback, so yeah, there's that to look out for if yuo don't like that stuff. It's nothing too messy I think. 
> 
> As always, I don't own anything and enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 12: Gluttony II

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
**xxx – parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
**_xxx – foreign language_**

 

It hurts. Everything hurts. 

To Harry, it felt like every vein his body was pumping hot lava; as though the darkness was being ripped straight out of him one thread at a time. In all his life, very rarely did he ever react to pain so viscerally. Years of abuse from the Dursleys at a young age had made him adapt to it. And yet, nothing they had ever inflicted upon him had even a modicum of what he was being affected by now.

Every prick of sensation was like a banshee screaming to his nervous system, where otherwise a peaceful lull would be. He wanted it to stop, to be over; but he knew he had to do this. Otherwise, the consequences would be far worse. So, he allowed himself to lose his mind to the pain, until a crashing wave jolted him to sit up. 

“Someone needs to get me a bucket, a pan, anything!” A woman screamed beside him. 

With the adrenaline now kicking in, he was scarcely aware of his surroundings now: the various blurry figures around his bed, his hand on his stomach, the wetness coming from his mouth. It all came crashing down as the pain suddenly morphed into nausea. But, rather than the feeling of eating a bad Treacle Tart, this was as if something was trying to force its way out him. 

When the hazy filter of sickness left him, he immediately grabbed what he assumed was a bucket from the nurse and vomited into it. It was harsh and rough on his throat. He went on for what seemed like ages, exercising whatever it was that was in him, in the most primitive way. When he felt the urge leave him, he coughed as the doctors jumped in to support his body. 

“Take a sample and send it to the lab,” he heard the doctor say to the nurse as he gently laid him down on the bed. 

“Well… that's a way to wake up…” Harry ground out after waking up from sleep once again, his voice as rough and worn as he felt. 

“It sure was. But, before we can get to the pleasantries, are you feeling anything else? More nausea? Pain? Numbness?” The doctor inquired. 

“No, yes, no. I don't have any allergies to medication; I visit my doctor every six months for a routine check-up. The whole spiel, as I'm sure you've heard plenty of times,” Harry said, going through the rounds of questions he always was asked. 

Raising one eyebrow, the doctor wrote down what Harry had said before looking up to speak again. “Well, that about answers most of this sheet. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you end up in the care of a medical professional a lot if you already know all the questions I was going to ask.”

“You could say that. I was a bit of a wild child in school. The nurse at my boarding school used to say I was trouble prone, since I'd always end up causing a ruckus. It was always that or sports; I was a loose cannon when it came to that,” Harry explained to the doctor, who chuckled at his anecdote. 

“My daughter is a bit the same way, although she was more prone to overworking herself, rather than troublemaking. I tried to get her to ease up, but she would never yield. Always wanted to go for gold,” the doctor said. 

“She sounds lovely, doctor…” Harry said, going silent as he realized he didn't know the man's name. 

“Oh! My apologies, I guess I ahead of myself. Anyway, my name is Doctor Hamid Madani. I was the one who sewed up that nasty wound of yours last night,” Doctor Madani, who he now knew, said to him.

“Last night? What…” Harry said, before the memories of last night suddenly came back to him. Sitting up, Harry tried to ask if any of his friends were here, before a sharp pain shot through him. 

“Easy there, easy there. Your wound opened up while you were having an episode, so relax,” Doctor Madani explained to him. 

“Damn…” Harry sighed, before relaxing into the soft pillow, “did… did anyone come to visit?” 

“If by someone you mean the two dashing young men in the hallway who waited on you all night, then yes,” Doctor Madani joked. “Well, it was three, but I heard one had to leave early this morning.”

“Can I see them?” Harry asked. 

“Sure, I'll send them in. But, no strenuous movements. I don't want to have to sew that up again!” Doctor Madani said, before smiling and leaving the room.

Smiling back, Harry twiddled his thumbs, awaiting whoever it was that was here for him. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You see! My master has come to my aid! The righteous man has been rewarded for his service and loyalty!” The man frantically screamed, eyes bulging out. 

“What the hell…” Sam whispered to Voldemort at his side. 

Voldemort and Sam stared at the hysteric man as shadowy tendrils formed behind them. Though they were silent, Voldemort could feel the ambient energy change in the room. It had gotten colder and felt angrier. The rage was palpable, and it wasn't until the whipping noise of the shadows that he realized there was something in there with them. 

Reacting at lightning speed befitting of a former dark lord, Voldemort held out his wand.

“Protego Maxima!” He cast, a shield forming between the unknown assailant and the two of them. Upon impact, the tendrils splattered accordingly, causing Sam to flinch.

That is, until the tendrils spread off from the shield, bypassing it. With his wand already out, Sam prepared to cast another shield. But, instead of going for them like he expected, it bypassed the two completely and went straight for the chained-up man. Before he could let out a plea for his life, the blackened tentacles ruthlessly impaled him in the head and heart. 

The force of it pushed the now dead man to the floor, before it retracted back like a spring. As they folded back into the shadows on the wall, Voldemort called out. “Who are you? What is your goal?” 

The figure let out an inaudible garble, before it began to sink back into the shadows of the room. Not wanting to let whatever it was escape, Sam shot out a Stupefy, but yielded no results as it merely hit the wall. As fast as it appeared, it was gone, leaving the two with a dead body. 

“Shit…” Sam muttered, “what the hell was that?!” 

“I've never seen anything like it…” Voldemort said, brow knot in frustration.

Sam turned to Voldemort, only to see the man stared thoughtfully at the wall. Sighing, he walked towards the man, placing his hand on Voldemort's shoulder. “What should we do, Quirrell?”

Interrupted from his stupor by Sam's voice, Voldemort looked at the other man. “We need to dispose of this body, any trace of it could be damning, should anyone find out.”

Taking in a deep breath, Sam closed his eyes and looked to the sky. “Double shit… this is gonna bite us in the ass later, isn't it?”

“Most likely, although I'm highly doubtful we'll be caught,” Voldemort explained. 

“Why is that?” Sam asked. 

Pointing his wand at the body, he began to slowly sway his wand. Before long, a green fluid in the shape of a snake began to slither and encase the body.

Sam watched from the side as Voldemort cast the spell. “Obliterare!” 

The casting of the spell caused the snake shaped fluid to wrap itself even tighter around the body, as a real snake would to its prey. As it drenched the skin, it began to completely disintegrate everything it touched. 

“Where did you learn a spell like that?!” Sam said in both awe and slight revulsion. 

“I picked it up in Albania. I encountered family of wizards living in the forests. They had a rather sick hobby of hunting the native species of Hippogriff. When they were finished collecting their wings and beaks, they'd use this to get rid of the body,” Voldemort fibbed, as he obviously couldn't explain that he invented the spell himself, to get rid of his victims. That is, until he amassed enough followers to do it for him. 

Shivering in disgust, Sam decided to turn away from the rapidly disintegrating body. “So… now what? We just lost our one lead and became witnesses to a murder in the process!” 

“We need to investigate further. These people rarely set foot outside of Asia, since they don't have any territory here in America. It's odd that one of theirs would be here. Unless… they're making a move; or, maybe they're looking for something,” Voldemort theorized.

_Or someone, Sam thought to himself._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Please, for the love of God Karen, don't open those blinds…” Foggy pathetically plead to Karen from his slumped form. 

“No, it's depressing as hell in here and we need the vitamin D,” Karen sassed back, forcefully opening the curtains, purposefully the ones by Foggy's face. 

“I take back calling you a goddess. You're actually a demon sent to torment me!” Foggy half-heartedly joked. “And besides, I take supplements, don't need the sun like… ever.”

“Explains the pasty complexion” Karen joked, sitting atop the desk Foggy was currently laying his head on. 

Waiting through minute of silence, Karen sucked in her lip. “Listen… what's done… is done. The trial is going to happen whether we like it or not. You can't just sit here and mope about it!” 

“I know! I just… I don't want to do anything without Matt here. God… he should've been there, he probably could've talked Castle out of it,” Foggy said, his hands over his face muffling his words. 

“Where is Matt, anyway,” Karen asked.

“Honestly, he's either out doing some weird shit for that client again or he's getting pity kisses from Harry,” Foggy admitted. 

“Foggy!” Karen said, softly smacking him on the head. At this, Foggy gave a very exaggerated reaction. 

“What?! Those are the two statistically viable answers! Matt's a lucky son of bitch because he has someone to distract him from shit hitting the fan,” Foggy half joked, half ranted. 

“What is up with that client, anyway? I feel like I would've remembered someone that important. Or at least important enough to force Matt into doing something,” Karen pondered. 

“Who the hell knows…” Foggy said into his arm, feeling the copious chugs of alcohol catch up to him. 

“You know, I'll call him. See if we can meet up and try to come up with a plan,” Karen said, stepping out to get her phone and to let Foggy deal with his hangover. 

Bringing up Matt's contact, she tapped away at her phone till she held it up to her face. After ringing for a bit, the line was picked up. “Hey Matt, how are you doing? I know last night must've been rough with the news and all, but I was just wondering if you were ok to come down to the office? I would say we could come to yours, but Foggy's still fucked up from last night's moping-slash-drinking session, so-” 

“Karen, I'm at the hospital right now…” Matt muttered dejectedly into the phone. 

“Oh… oh my God! Are you ok? What happened? Do you need us to come over?!” Karen babbled, taking the phone from her face for a moment to get Foggy's attention, “Foggy get up right now! Matt's at the hospital!” 

A distant cry of disbelief could be heard by Matt, who was trying to explain the situation. “Karen… if you and Foggy aren't up to it, you don't have to come. I'll try to meet up to help plan, but…” 

“No! Matt you're our friend! If you're hurt, we'll come to you!” Karen said to him, warming his heart a bit. 

“It's not me that's in the bed, Karen…” Matt said. 

“Well if it's not you, then…” Karen said, before the realization of who was actually hurt hit her. 

“We're coming now,” Karen said, before promptly hanging up. 

“Guess I'm getting some more visitors?” Harry asked Matt, who forced his way into taking up residence in bed with him. 

“Seems like it,” Matt chuckled into Harry's soft hair. 

“And that's my cue to leave the premises,” Draco snidely commented from the doorway. 

“Don't be rude, Draco!” Harry scolded. 

Draco simply rolled his eyes, before speaking up. “I do have to leave now, though; not all of us got to sleep all night.” 

Draco then turned around and walked out of the hospital room.

“So, what's this about a case? I thought you were handling the Castle thing,” Harry asked as soon as Draco was out of eyesight. 

“Well… it didn't really go as planned,” Matt said, “he ended up pleading not guilty, so now we have to represent him in court.”

“Holy… Matt what the hell are you still doing here then?! Go meet up with Karen and Foggy!” Harry let out.

Chuckling softly, Matt carded his hands through Harry's hair. “And leave you all alone? Not gonna happen. Besides, I don't think I'll be letting you out of my sight for a while.” 

Pouting childishly, Harry kicked up a fuss towards Matt. “Matt! This is your job, I mean… look at me! I'm fine now! You shouldn't just stay here with me!” 

“Harry, you almost died and I don't want to lose you. Being here means that I can protect you,” Matt whispered to him. 

Harry's face softened at Matt. “I'm a lot more durable than you think and I don't need to be protected twenty-four-seven. So, what if I got stabbed, that doesn't mean I'll let it happen again! I'm sure there's some cosmic statistic that says from now on, I'll be less likely to be on the receiving end of another blade!” 

Smiling a bit, Matt wrapped his arms around Harry before putting his head on his shoulders. “Fine, but I'm sleeping right here until then,” Matt mumbled into his skin. 

“Idiot…” Harry whispered when he felt Matt's breathing steady. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Drink up, Mr. Virgil. You won't be leaving until this is all gone.”

Virgil could not do more than to open his eyes, barely being able to do so. His body was injured beyond measure, with deep wounds littering his skin. He was aware he was in some sort of temple complex, if the inner decorum was anything to go by. He surmised he could've been transported here via an international Portkey. 

Yet, he knew that was impossible. The jarring force of a Portkey should've at least awoken him, despite his current disposition. Looking past whatever the hell was set in front of him, Virgil could make out three figures. One looked like the man he had faced off with, while the other two were unfamiliar to him.

Noticing that he was indeed aware of his surroundings, the man turned away from the mysterious two and looked directly at him. Even from his spot on the floor, Virgil could make out his devious smirk. 

“Go back to New York and acquire the bodies. I should hope that you two hurry though, we don't have much time before they're discovered,” the man told the two, who then Apparated away to who knows where. 

“Now… to deal with you. Like I said before, you're going to need to drink everything in that bowl,” the man said. 

“And why the fuck would I trust anything you say or want me to do. I'd rather die right here than drink that putrid shit,” Virgil spat out, much to the growing ire of the man. 

Irritated at Virgil's vitriol, the man kneeled down in front of him and grabbed the back of his head before dragging it to the bowl. “I will forgive this indiscretion on the basis of your understandable ignorance. But, let me be clear so you understand. This is very sacred and holy to us. The fact that you are even being given a chance to consume it should let you know to never spout such stupidity in my presence ever again.”

“I could've left you to die on that roof with your foolish companions. Yet, I saw the potential in you. I brought you to our most holy site so that you could see what we see; so, you could see him,” the man continued. 

The man's face grew increasingly angrier at Virgil's refusal to down the black liquid in the bowl.

“You insolent fucking heathen! How dare you refuse this?! Not even the most trusted in our ranks are allowed this privilege!” The man yelled in his ear, causing a painful ringing in Virgil's head, “you know what?! You've forced me to do this. Rarely does drinking his sacred milk ever work for those unwilling. But… let us test that with you!” 

Virgil was unable to resist as the man roughly pulled his head back, force feeding the rotten smelling liquid into his mouth. As it slid down his throat, Virgil's will to defy the man began to waver. In fact, it felt almost… relaxing to Virgil. It was if the liquid was calming all of his rebellious tendencies. 

When the last of it was gone, the man smiled at the hauntingly serene expression on Virgil's face. “Looks as though it worked wonders.”

Virgil then laid back, hyper aware of the liquid coursing through his veins. He felt a high greater than any magical potion could produce. And when the voice started to coo in his ear, Virgil knew what he had to do next: to serve The Beast as one of his blessed agents. 

He needed to help his new master's vessel and groom him; to make him ready to receive the gifts of the shadows. 

“A bit crude, don't you think?” A voice behind the two asked. 

“A servant is a servant, regardless of how he came to be under rule. You should know that better than anyone,” the black cloaked man said. 

Clicking his teeth in annoyance, the man adorned in an embellished black catsuit leaned on one of the pillars of the temple. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Bring Mr. Virgil back to the American Ministry. By then he should be well acquainted with our goals and will be fully cooperative. He will be our eyes and ears regarding dear Harry,” the man ordered. 

“Whatever you say, boss.” The man said, watching as the cloaked man disappear into his shadowy tendrils. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You two are sickeningly adorable, “Foggy said abruptly as soon as he and Karen entered Harry's hospital room. 

“Foggy!” Karen whispered, jabbing him in the side as Matt began to stir from his slumber. 

“Jesus… Harry, are you ok?” Karen said, eyeing the various bandages and tubes strewn all over Harry. 

“As ok as I can be with this lug of muscle pushing further and further into this bed,” Harry joked, letting his two friends know he was doing fine. 

“Well that's a relief. I'm glad you're ok then,” Karen sighed. 

“Not that I'm not appreciative of you guys visiting me, but from what I hear you guys have way more pressing matters,” Harry said, frowning at the downcast looks of the two. 

“Don’t ruin the mood, Harry. It's supposed to be mushy and sweet, let's not talk about that right now,” Matt mumbled, stretching after waking up from his nap. 

“Matt… don't say things like that. Every minute you spend with me is one less spent trying to save your asses,” Harry said matter-of-factly. 

Sighing, Matt sat up. “I know, I know. Foggy, Karen, you guys make any headway on the case?” 

“If by headway, you mean downing half of the alcohol supply at the office, then yes, we made a lot of headway,” Karen admitted. 

“That bad?” Harry asked. 

“Yup,” Foggy said dejectedly. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, some of my most brilliant ideas were born from getting piss drunk. Maybe all it takes is some uninhibited thinking to get you guys going,” Harry admitted. 

“Really? Encouraging alcohol consumption while in a hospital bed?!” Karen giggled. 

“Hey! A little bit of whisky and red wine never hurt,” Harry sassed back. 

“Well, not to be insensitive, but like… could you get shit-faced and birth us a way to get out of this mess,” Foggy whined, causing the other three to laugh. Unfortunately, Foggy's mood lifter was a bit too effective, as Harry's side began to ache at being stretched from laughing so much. 

Seeing the pain he was in, Foggy immediately went to apologizing. “Geez… sorry Harry.” 

“No problem, Foggy. But, I'm sorry to say my field of expertise is business, not law. Don't think drunk me would be of much help,” Harry said light-heartedly. 

“At least I tried,” Foggy moaned, much to the amusement of the other three.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

~ “To the future Minister's son! May his father not be as much of a giant fuck up as the last one!” A Slytherin sixth year shouted, raising his glass in Harry's direction, with the others following suit. 

Tonight was exactly one week before Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts would come to a close. It also happened to be a month away from his father's inevitable coronation as the Minister of Magic. To celebrate both occasions, the Slytherins had taken to throwing the most ironically messy, clean cut party they could. 

While the decorum and vibe were akin to everything one would expect from a Slytherin party, the behavior of the students were much closer to muggle frat parties. Many students were either piss drunk, dancing inappropriately, or practically fucking on whatever free space they could find. The upper years had even invited the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students; and, begrudgingly, the other houses of Hogwarts. Though, due to the pissing contest they had engaged with the Gryffindors, the only non-Slytherins that showed up were from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Well, those houses plus Hermione and Neville. Harry's friends had made it a point to show solidarity with their friend, as they had been unfortunately neglecting him in favor of calming the growing resentment Ron was developing towards Harry. 

“He's not Minister yet!” Harry pouted jokingly. 

“Potter, if there's anyone in the world who's qualified to lead our country, it's your father. Professor Quirrell is one of the most capable wizards in all of the United Kingdom, even if he is a half bree-” a different Slytherin said, before promptly being shoved harshly by the girl next to him.

As quick as the euphoric sense of comradery came to Harry, it left as he was once again reminded of the prejudice of his own house. Getting up from his spot on the couch, he downed his drink before stomping off. Although several of the students, including Neville and Hermione, looked at him leave, only one got up to chase him. 

In the hallways of the dungeon, Harry sat on the ground against the wall, buzzed from the Firewhisky. Hearing footsteps, Harry tried to get up, but was unable to keep his balance. Bracing himself, Harry expected to faceplant, but was caught in a pair of very muscular arms. 

Looking up, Harry was met with a pair of gorgeous eyes embedded inside a very handsome face. “Cedric…” 

“You ok, Harry?” Cedric asked, his lush voice bringing chills to Harry's spine and a blush on his face. 

“F-fine. I'm just a bit sloshed at the moment. I think whatever brand of Firewhisky Pansy snuck in was lying about the proof,” Harry mumbled, speech slurred a bit. 

“No kidding. If I'm honest, I'm a bit buzzed as well,” Cedric said, giggling in the most annoyingly perfect way. 

“Wow, Cedric. I'm disappointed in you, being a prefect and all. What would Professor Sprout say if she saw her golden boy drunk and, in the hallways, close to curfew,” Harry teased, breath becoming a bit labored as Cedric got closer. 

“She'd probably have a heart attack. Although, I wonder what Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell would say if they saw their pride and joy being caught in a scandalous position with the Triwizard Tournament winner?” Cedric teased back. 

Not bothering to answer, Harry mentally blamed the alcohol for what he was about to do. Lunging up, Harry planted his lips onto Cedric's very willing pair. Wrapping his arms around the taller boy, Harry allowed himself to be guided by the sweet vigor of Cedric's experienced lips. 

As Cedric pressed him up against the nearest alcove, Harry thought about what this meant. He knew that this wouldn't last. He was too much of a wild storm, and any sort of future with Cedric probably meant suffocating domesticity. But he didn't really care for thinking about that. He was only halfway through his tutelage at Hogwarts; he had plenty of time for a fling, or multiple. He'd just need to figure out how to hide it from his father's ever watchful eyes. ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Sam paced in his office, awaiting the return of the covert team he had been forced to abandon the night before. He knew that two were already dead, but he held out hope for Virgil and Bruce to return. 

“Your relentless pacing will only serve to dig a trail into your floor. I suggest you sit still and occupy yourself with something. Your Patronus scampered away and the Point-Me spell worked, so it's obvious that your men are alive,” Voldemort stated. 

“Do you always offer this shitty level of comfort to everyone you know? How the hell did Harry survive having you as a dad and a teacher?” Sam said, frustrated with Voldemort's lack of tact. 

“He survived because he was strong willed and independent, just like I assume your men are. And if they have even a sliver of Harry's will, then I have full confidence they'll come back,” Voldemort said. 

“Why are you even staying here with me? I told you, Harry's in the hospital! Shouldn't you be… I don't know… offering fatherly support?” Sam questioned. 

“Like I've explained, Harry's strong. If his heart is still beating, then he is still fighting, and that is enough for me to trust that he'll be ok,” Voldemort explained. And as much as he was confident in Harry's will, he was also hyper aware of Harry's every action if he needed to be; the perks of a Horcrux and all that.

The two bickered for much longer than either would've liked. The two were polar opposites when it came to an assortment of things: their leadership styles for one, not to mention their approach to potential political travesty. Voldemort was a much dirtier player when it came to getting what he wanted, but Sam was still sickeningly optimistic in the process of government. 

They couldn't decide on their next course of action. Despite the operation being of need-to-know status, missing Aurors would be something that would get out eventually. They needed a plan to deal with it, and fast. 

“I still don't understand why you think marking them as killed-in-action's is such a bad call. Eventually, their families will notice them gone. I'd rather nip this in the bud than end up with a shitstorm later on!” Sam grumbled. 

“Because, Samuel, while people may believe that your Aurors were lost in the line of duty, the International Confederation is not that inept. They will connect the dots back to us, and when they do-” Voldemort cool ranted to Sam, before being interrupted by the green flames of Sam's personal Floo. 

Both men instantly had their wands out, only to be met by Virgil. Letting out the breath he was holding, Sam went to enthusiastically greet the other man, pampering him with worry. However, Voldemort stayed back, contemplating. He felt as though something was… off about Virgil. He couldn't place what or why he was feeling off about the Auror. It as if his very essence was somehow… wrong. 

Voldemort's contemplative thoughts were interrupted when Virgil came up to greet him. Putting his hand on his shoulder, as he had observed many of his colleagues do to comfort others, Voldemort was struck by some sort of shock of magic. It was minute and not noticed by the other two, but he knew someone had happened. 

Storing that for later analysis, Voldemort moved so that Virgil could sit and report to them. 

“Are you sure you're up to reporting, Virgil? Why don't you go down to the infirmary and talk to us later?” Sam asked the man. 

“No can do, sir. I need to let you know what happened after you left,” Virgil said to Sam.

Sighing, Sam brought out a piece of parchment and an enchanted pen. Flicking his wand, the parchment and pen floated to Sam's side, ready to record Virgil's words. 

“After you had left, Paul and I had engaged in combat with the assailant. The man… I've never seen or heard of anyone who used magic like him. We tried our best to fend him off, to give time for you, Mr. Malfoy, and Harry to escape, but he was too powerful. He… he knocked me out, and when I came to… Paul and Bruce were gone. I know we saw Bruce… b-but maybe he survived, along with Paul!” Virgil began to explain. 

“I woke up alone, and I was too injured to move. Luckily a wizard noticed the influx of magic and found me. He was able to patch me up, and now I'm here,” Virgil finished, watching as the pen moved across the parchment. 

“Is that man here? We need to make sure he's trustworthy,” Sam asked. 

“I left him waiting in the lobby, sir,” Virgil said. 

Taking his wand, Sam placed it as his throat. The tip began to glow, and he began to speak. “Quinten, go the lobby and tell-” 

“What was his name?” Sam asked Virgil. 

“Carlos. Carlos LaMuerto”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New character alerttttt! :) If you know who this is from the comics, just know I'm pulling an MCU and changing his backstory to fit this story. Also, sorry for nothing much happening in this chapter :( the next one is a bit the same (ie some backstory for a character + some transtions for time) but the next ones after that should be really juicy :) 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave a comment, but be resectful :)


	13. Chapter 13: Gluttony III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the trial looms over the heads of everyone, things are set into motion that cannot be undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the almost month long wait, finals were hell :/ BUTTTT, I'm back with a new chapter! I'm still trying to get used to writing actions scenes, so please forgive me if it feels awkward. Also, I'll try to get the last installment of Gluttony out before New Years; but, if I don't, Happy New Years if you're reading this by then! We're about half way through the show episode wise, but there's A LOT I'm going to be changing in the next arc. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! And I Don't own much of anything here!

Chapter 13: Gluttony III

“xxx” – regular speech  
 _xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
 **xxx – parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background   
**_xxx – foreign language_**

 

“Do you have any preexisting opinion, any at all, for the defendant Frank Castle?” 

“He's nothing but a-”

“-hero who's putting these muggers and rapists in the ground where they belong. If you ask me, he should be-”

“-locked up with all the other mass murdering crazies. Hell, might as well put him-”

“-on the highest pedestal in New York. He's doing what the police could never do! He deserves-”

“-the worst the world has to offer. He's not like all those other freaks on TV. At least they have us and the government to answer to! Nobody's holding him accountable! Not till now!”

The judge rolled her eyes as she watched the next potential juror file out of the interview room. Over four hundred people had been summoned; and, so far, not even five of them had been good enough for the prosecution and defense.

Sighing, the judge looked over the mountainous stacks of profiles once again. She pulled one out and read over their answers once more. Groaning, the woman laid back in her seat. Beckoning the staff, she had them take the piles to both parties.

“If they can't decide from these… God help them, because I'll make it hell on Earth for them.” 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

It had been four days since Harry was admitted, and, true to his promise, Matt had stuck by every day. He had brought as many files as he had brought take out to eat. Even Karen and Foggy stopped by, both for checking in and working with Matt when he was in a stubborn mood. 

They'd gone over the varying strategies for Frank Castle's defense, much of which went completely over Harry's head. But, like the supportive friend he always is, nodded his head and gave words of encouragement. The trio seemed as confident in their case as he was during his first Quidditch game during his second year: that is to say, not at all. 

Though he didn't understand the specifics, he was aware of the hurdles they'd have to face in order to save this man's life. One, Harry himself, being a victim of one of Frank's attacks; and two, Reyes and her lacky. Said ambitiously vicious woman was giving interviews left and right about how she'd be the one to put Frank away. It reminded Harry of how… certain classmates of his used to preach about how he'd save Harry and destroy the evil Slytherin house. 

“Seriously, Matt! You're going to be late for the hearing!” Harry scolded Matt, who was sitting in the seat beside his hospital bed.

“I know! I know! I'm already out the door!” Matt said hurriedly, walking up to give Harry a goodbye kiss before making his way to the door. But, before he crossed the threshold, Matt turned around once again. 

“Nope! Not another word! I'm calling Bruno about when I'm being discharged. He will pick me up, and I will go straight to my apartment! And then I will call you later!” Harry quickly said, shutting Matt up before he could delay any longer. 

Matt smiled and said his goodbye, meeting Karen in the lobby to leave. Karen herself had waved to him from afar, knowing that they were on a tight schedule. When the duo was out of his sight, Harry picked up his phone and dialed.

“Bruno? Could you come and get me at noon, today? They'll be discharging me by then and I'd rather not stay a second more in a hospital bed,” Harry asked. 

“I'll be as prompt as possible, sir,” Bruno answered back.

“Thank you, Bruno!” 

“You're very welcome, sir. I hope to see your speedy recovery here at home,” Bruno curtly replied.

Bruno smiled as he put his phone down after hanging up on his charge. In the years he had spent alongside Harry, Bruno had the pleasure of watching him come into his own, as both a wizard and a man. To him, it was just yesterday that he was charged by his father to care for the heartbroken boy as he made his way through the muggle world. It made him proud to see Harry follow through with his and his father's ambitions.

And really, although he never understood either of their desires to expand into the muggle realm, he still gladly followed. If not for the affection he had for the boy, then the obligation he had to serve his father. For he owed much of his continued freedom to Harry's father, who, in his crusade as head of magical Britain, had freed a multitude of wizards and witches accused of being Death Eaters; many of which were simply dark attuned wizards who were lumped with that insane lot.

Such was the case of Bruno Montague, who in an incredibly ill-timed visit to his family's mansion, was caught up in a ministry raid under Fudge. Thrown into Azkaban without hesitation for the existence of some damned cursed sword, the man was all but doomed to a fate worse than death. However, with the rise of Quirinus Quirrell as the new Minister of Magic, came salvation. 

And thus, Bruno served to fulfill his life-debt to the unusual family that was Harry and his adopted father.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I swear to Morgana, if you don't finish your end of this shit soon, I will personally come to that little temple of yours and Avada Kedavra you!” 'Reyes’ growled into her phone, just coming out of the final preliminary hearing before the Castle case went to trial. 

“Perhaps I should have sourced for talent within our own ranks. You British folk truly lack the patience required for delicate operations such as this one. Always wanting to use brute force to get what you want,” the man on the other end taunted, causing 'Reyes’ to fume even more. 

“Oh, I have patience! Just not for dealing with shit I couldn't care less about! Why am I even entertaining this charade anymore? You've got someone else! An insider that's close enough to your little pet project! Why the bloody hell do I still need to be stuck in this skin?!” ‘Reyes’ bit back. 

“Relax, dear. Besides, as you put it, this 'charade’ is almost over. Just until the trial reaches its fever pitch, then you can stop taking that potion and Miss Reyes can disappear forever…” the man said. 

“It better be, you pompous arse… And you know what?! While I've got you here, how about we start talking about payment for my services. Since you've been overworking me, I demand double what-” 'Reyes’ barked before quieting down as she heard the bathroom doors open. 

Looking towards the door, 'Reyes’ was met with Karen. Slowly putting her phone down, she hung up while eyeing the blonde. “Fancy meeting you here…” 

“Yeah… sure…” Karen mumbled, narrowing her eyes as she went to stand a few sinks downward from 'Reyes’. Turning on the sink, Karen focused on the sounds of the water flowing, hoping that it would fill the dead air between the two. 

Twisting ever so slightly to take a glance at her legal opponent, Karen was discomforted to see the woman leaning against the sinks, staring at her expectantly. 

“Can I… help you with something?” Karen asked sharply. 

“No… nothing you could help me with,” 'Reyes’ said mysteriously, before walking out the door.

“The hell was that about…” Karen muttered as she finished washing up. 

“You ok, Karen? You seem shook up about something,” Matt asked, pausing his conversation with Foggy as Karen walked towards them. The two lawyers tilted their heads up to her, waiting on her to answer. 

“Yeah… um… I just, I saw Reyes in the bathroom and well…” Karen tried to explain, as she was at a loss for words.

“Did something happen? Did she say anything to you?!” Foggy asked worriedly. 

“No… not really. But, just… she was talking on the phone with someone. I wasn't able to catch the entire conversation, but I caught the tail end of it,” Karen finally gushed out.

“Well? What was she saying? Did you catch any names?” Matt asked.

“Well, no… but I heard her talking about wanting payment for something… and that she was demanding double because whoever she was talking to was 'overworking’ her…” Karen said, still confused about the events that had just occurred. 

“Wait… this just made this case ten times as messy…” Foggy said, much to the confusion of Karen. 

“How so?” Karen asked.

“Well, let's assume that for whatever reason, she's being paid under the table,” Matt started to explain, “that would provide more than enough evidence to suggest that she's been undermining this entire trial from the get-go, or whenever she started to receive these payments.”

“And that would get her kicked off the case…” Karen realized, before frowning at Matt and Foggy's faces. “Why are you guys acting like that? We just basically found a way to screw Reyes back!” 

“We can't just go off of something you've overhead in the bathroom,” Foggy explained.

“We’d need concrete evidence: cell phone records, bank account numbers, contracts, any sort of paper trail that could prove she’s dirty,” Matt jumped in as well.

“And that puts us back at square one; where we're at right now…” Karen sighed, sitting down in between the two as they both agreed. 

“But… this means that we aren't walking around like chickens with our heads cut off. We have something to work off of, to look for,” Matt said, trying to cheer the two of them up. “We'll catch her guys, and we'll make sure Castle gets the help he needs, too.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“I hope your tenure at the hospital was a onetime occurrence, sir…” Bruno said as he guided a still wobbly Harry into the car. 

“Don't worry, it is. I refuse to spend another second in that sterile hellscape. And if that means walking around with bubble wrap armor and a Protego permanently on my arse, then so be it,” Harry half joked, half promised Bruno as they drove off to Harry's apartment. 

“I will hold you to it, sir,” Bruno stated. 

“So… have you heard anything new from my father? Or Sam? Last time I contacted them, they were talking to that wizard who helped Virgil,” Harry asked.

“No, sir. Minister Quirrell hasn't said much in the vein of progress towards identifying the people who attacked you, and neither has President Samuel. However… there is something that Mr. Malfoy discovered since your admission to the hospital,” Bruno explained, peeking Harry's interest. 

Sensing Harry was waiting for an explanation, Bruno began to speak. “He found that the man who attacked you, Hisato Onigiri, was admitted to Metro-General's ICU shortly after you were taken to surgery. From the looks of it… the man is brain dead.”

Harry didn't know how to feel or react. In fact, he could barely process anything that was going on as he leaned back. His breathing began to shorten, and his legs felt even more like jelly than moments ago. His heart was going a mile a minute.

“Sir…” Bruno said as he eyed Harry's reaction.

“Do not blame yourself, especially not when that man attacked you,” Bruno began to say, trying to calm Harry down, “and besides, the man wasn't brain dead by means of mental magic. Or, any sort of magic you would've been able to cast.”

“What?” Harry asked, “that's… that doesn't make any sense. I used Legilimency on him! How else could he have ended up brain dead?!”

“From what Mr. Malfoy could gather, he was subject to an incredibly precise puncture wound straight through the back of his head…” Bruno explained. 

“Let me guess, it was…” Harry assumed. 

“Based on what your father has explained to me, from Virgil's account of that night after you were evacuated, it seems as though the man who attacked you had access to some sort of magical entity or weapon capable of incomprehensible danger. Putting two and two together…” Bruno said. 

“The people who attacked us, got to him… but that doesn't make any sense. They were working together, I'm sure of it. When I was knocked out the first time, the people who were holding me captive were taking care of him!” Harry recounted. 

“Perhaps they were tying up a loose end? From the way you explained it, it seemed like they were depending on that Onigiri character to subdue you. And when that failed, their leader stepped in,” Bruno wondered. 

“Maybe…” Harry whispered as he eyed his apartment building through the window, lamenting over the events of the past week. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Swanky office you got here, bub,” Carlos hummed, picking up the various artifacts littering the shelves, much to the annoyance of Virgil. “Much better than that shithole of an apartment you stuffed me in while you got to go to work.”

“Listen, I'm only tolerating you because the Master has deemed you a necessary fixture at my side. Don't talk like we're best buds or anything,” Virgil growled.

“Geez, lighten up will ya’? You got to drink the juice and suddenly you're the king of England,” Carlos mocked back, clearly taking pleasure in Virgil's frustration.

“Why do they even keep you around? You're nothing but an uncontrollable, unbecoming bru-” Virgil tried to say before Carlos suddenly pushed him into a wall, his blade pressed tightly on his neck. “They keep me around because no matter who; whether wizard, non-magical person, or some other superpowered freak out there in the world, I always get the job done.”

Carlos pressed his blade hard enough against Virgil's tender skin that blood was drawn. As the beads of blood trickled out, Carlos withdrew his blade and wiped it off with Virgil's own clothing. Smiling arrogantly, the assassin sheathed his sword and sat down on a chair, feet up on the desk. 

“Now, let's talk about that little doe the boss has been creaming himself over. Harry Potter, right?” Carlos asked, as if those last few moments hadn't just occurred.

Whispering an Episkey towards his neck, sealing the wound, Virgil sat down on his own seat. “Yes, Harry James Potter. Child to Lord James Potter and No-Maj prodigy Lily Evans; both were killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort, leaving Harry as the sole survivor. He was then adopted by Quirinus Quirrell, unassuming Hogwarts teacher turned political phenomenon and eventual Minister of Magic.”

Carlos whistled at the already impressive list of history regarding the boy. 

Ignoring him, Virgil continued on. “He flourished at Hogwarts, easily earning top marks every year. Eventually, he became potion master Severus Snape's apprentice for some time before his graduation.”

“Any personal connections? Besides that band of lawyers, he's always with?” Carlos asked. 

“He’s had a few relationships before his current one, all with seemingly exceptional young men: one Cedric Diggory, now a rising star among the British Aurors; and Victor Krum, famed Quidditch Seeker, just to name some,” Virgil listed off, reading from the file he had been compiling over the last few days. 

“Well then… how are you going to go about getting the kid to our side? I mean, from the sounds of it, the kid is a textbook golden boy. I'm highly doubtful he'd willingly take part in what _he_ wants him to,” Carlos commented. 

“We first need to isolate him. The master has already laid the groundwork. We just need to drive the wedge further between him and that lawyer. Then, he'll be vulnerable enough for us to… persuade him,” Virgil said. 

“And how do we do that?” Carlos asked. 

“Simple, you put yourself to use and try and find something on the lawyer, Matthew Murdock. I'm sure someone with your skills could find something,” Virgil commanded. 

“As if making him sad over a break up is going to make him ready and willing… the boss really needs to pick better henchmen,” Carlos whispered as he exited Virgil's office, going off to tail Harry's boyfriend. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You at your apartment?” Matt asked into his phone, lying down on the couch in his court suit.

“Yes, I am. You want to know what I'm wearing while you're at it?” Harry joked, as he laid in his bed.

“Mm, maybe. Might get this case off my mind for a bit,” Matt answered back, teasingly. 

“Matt! This is important, there shouldn't be any room in your head for distraction! You have the opening statement tomorrow!” Harry scolded. 

“I know, I know! That's why I have you on the phone! Let me run it by you,” Matt said, as he reached over to the desk for his papers. “I'll put you on speaker.”

Matt then began to read off his statement; and while Harry was sure half of the things Matt was saying were flying over his head, he made sure to be attentive and responsive. “It sounds amazing, I know you'll kick arse tomorrow!” 

“I'll make sure Foggy records me 'kicking arse’ tomorrow so you can see,” Matt said, mocking Harry's accent. 

“Bugger off, you arse!” Harry teased back. “It's getting late, Matt. You should go get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Matt answered, yawning a bit. 

“Well I was ok when you first called me three hours ago,” Harry said, “go get some sleep.”

“Ok… love you,” Matt said quietly.

“Love you, too,” Harry replied back, hanging up the phone so Matt wouldn't try to extend their time. 

Harry smiled to himself as he put his phone on the dresser by his bed. Looking over the edge, he could see Nagini curled up in the bed he had conjured for her, while Hedwig was in her perch, cooing. Feeling perched, Harry decided to stretch his magic muscles and summon some water. 

“Accio glass of water!” Harry said. After a few seconds, Harry was confused as to why the glass wasn't coming. That is, until it came crashing through his door, shattering in front of him. The shattering woke both of the animals in the room, as well as scratching up Harry's hands. 

“Fuck!” Harry yelled out, as Nagini and Hedwig both clambered to get to him. _What the bloody hell just happened, Harry wondered._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Late night calls to your sweetheart? That's so cliché of you, Matthew…” a familiar accented voiced purred from the top of his loft stairs. 

“Elektra… what the hell are you doing here?” Matt angrily asked. 

“So abrasive, but that's what I loved about you…” Elektra said lightly. 

“Elektra…”

“Fine!” Elektra said, putting her hands up while sitting next to Matt's laid out form on the couch. “I found someone who was able to decipher the code from the ledger!”

“How'd you get them to do it for you?” Matt asked, assuming she'd done some conniving.

“I played on his weaknesses: cocaine and women. I played the escort before I reminded him why it wasn't such a good idea working for the Yakuza,” Elektra professed. “And before you say anything, yes he is still alive.”

“So, what was the point of you coming here?” Matt asked once again.

“I found out where the next shipment of goods for Roxxon is coming in. I was thinking a bit of team up action could help this go along way faster than if it was just me,” Elektra said.

“Wh- hell no! Elektra, I know you were spying earlier! You know I have my opening statement tomorrow! I can't just ignore my priorities to play vigilante hooky!” Matt ranted. 

“I distinctly remember you promising you'd help, Matthew. Besides, with us, it won't take more than a few hours. I'll have you back and ready for court tomorrow, promise,” Elektra said, with a faux pout. 

Matt scowled, before getting up to get his suit. However, unknown to either party, a figure cloaked in a black suit sat amongst the shadows of the building across from them, watching. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Hey, Foggy…” Karen asked as she got up to make coffee for the two of them. 

“Yeah, Karen?” Foggy answered. 

“Do you… think that Frank is just… completely out of it?” Karen whispered as she sat in front of him. 

“Well I mean, he did shoot at you and Harry. And I don't think anyone who would kill that many people is exactly right in the head,” Foggy said matter-of-factly.

“But I mean, the stuff about his family… I mean that has to count for something right?” Karen said. 

“Karen… as much as I want to believe that this whole shitstorm of conspiracy around his family accounts for… some of the shit that he's done, I can't just go up to the judge and say that. It's all tangential in the grand scheme of things. It sucks that this happened to him, but-” Foggy explained, before Karen cut him off. 

“Happening, not happened. This is something that is happening to him every day. He's living in a nightmare, and…” Karen said.

“We need to help him,” Foggy finished for her. 

“Yeah…” 

“We will, Karen. We've got this!” Foggy encouraged her.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Well, this place is empty. You'd think the Yakuza would've beefed up security after our little stunt,” Elektra whispered to Matt as they walked through the shadows of the shipyard.

“Well, if you keep talking maybe they'll oblige,” Matt sassed back. 

“Here we go, this is the container he told me to go to…” Elektra said, ignoring Matt, and opening up the container. 

When the container door was slid open, a pungent aroma of decay and guts filled the air. Elektra staggered back as dismembered bodies, or rather what was left today the bodies, flooded out. “What the… this was supposed to be a shipment of high tier drugs. What the hell…” 

“Maybe that guy misled you, sent you to a… graveyard as a trap,” Matt reasoned, already pulling Elektra away from the carnage. “Come on, Elektra. We need to get out of here and call the authorities!” 

“Didn't like my gift to you? I thought the Devil loved the smell of human suffering and death!” A mysterious voice echoed around them, as the layout of the area prevented Matt from pinpointing where the sound was coming from. 

Elektra and Matt stood back to back, ready for an attack. The crunching of gravel to their left alerted Matt to their uninvited guest. Signaling to Elektra, they both turned to the source of the steps. 

They were met with a man with a slightly bulkier build than Matt, dressed in a black suit not unlike Matt's own. But, where Matt took the visage of the Devil, this man chose to emulate the image of a spider. The linings of his suit were white and was sporting a collar that popped from his chest to his neck. His face was fully enshrouded in a mask, a spider in white at the center. 

“Who are you? Are you with the Yakuza?” Elektra asked, voice steady despite her nervousness over this unknown potential foe. 

“The Yakuza? Those fools?” The man said sarcastically, breaking into a fit of laughter at the mention of the Japanese criminal organization. “No, I am not one of the Yakuza's lapdogs. My bosses make the them look like schoolyard bullies in comparison! I mean, they couldn't even handle just me! It was pathetic, really! They were all so weak that I just had to chop them all up to put them out of their misery!” 

“Y-you killed… all those people?” Matt asked, shocked at the flippant attitude the man had when talking about killing so many people. 

“Well, somebody had to! I'm sure you were just gonna beat them up, right? Well I saved you both the trouble!” The man proclaimed. “But, enough about those idiots! I'd much rather get to know you two! I know you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, but you, I don't know who you are.”

“Let me guess… matching color schemes… Lady Devil! Or Devil Lady!” The man said. 

“Close, but not quite,” Elektra said, taking a big gulp as she realized they were most likely going to fight the maniac. 

“Well then, allow me to introduce myself! I go by the name of Black Tarantula!” the man proclaimed. 

“And I'm sure you're both a bit down after I ruined your date night, so how about this: I give you two the fight of your lives, and we'll call it even?” Black Tarantula taunted, unsheathing his blade. Matt and Elektra went into fighting stances, readying themselves for what they knew would be a tough fight. 

The two sides waited for the other to move, before Black Tarantula took one step before vanishing. 

“What the f-” Elektra tried to say, before the assailant reappeared between the two. 

“Sorry, doll, but you're not the one I want tonight!” Tarantula said, as he jammed a knife from his pouch into Elektra's shoulder, causing her to fall backwards. 

“Elektra!” Matt screamed, trying to run towards her, only to be stopped by Tarantula. 

“I wouldn't worry about her too much. I'm not one to kill pretty little things like her. But you, on the other hand, are someone I very much want to kill,” Tarantula said, ignoring the pained groans of Elektra at the back of his feet. 

At his declaration, Black Tarantula bolted towards Matt, his blade in hand. Matt in turn readied his baton, running at the same pace. When the two met in the middle, it became a clash for the ages. Every hit was met with a counter and every weapon strike was blocked. 

Matt was trying his hardest to keep up blow for blow. This Black Tarantula was an incredibly skilled fighter, someone he now realized was on par with him in every sense. 

“Come on! You're the famed Devil of Hell's Kitchen! Let's see the man who took down Wilson Fisk!” The man taunted as they traded blows. Matt tried to keep up but was beginning to feel fatigued.

Sensing this, Black Tarantula made a quick jab to an opening in Matt's defenses. Weakened, Matt wasn't able to stop him from slicing his sword. The blade ended up cutting right through his armor, all the way to his sides. 

Tarantula took the opportunity to kick Matt to the ground, to which he then jammed his blade into Matt's shoulders, as he had done to Elektra with his knife. Kneeling down, Tarantula began to twist the blade, relishing Matt's pained grunts. “Tsk-tsk. You should've fought harder, buddy. Maybe you would've survived tonight. Now, your girlfriend over there is gonna have to watch you die.”

“And even worse, your little boyfriend is gonna be all alone.” At the mention of Harry, and the realization that this man knew who he was, Matt began to struggle. Unfortunately, the blade kept him from doing anything, as it just tore even more of his shoulder up. “Can I ask you something before it's all over?”

“Does he know?” Tarantula whispered in Matt's ear. Receiving nothing but a shot bloodied spit from Matt, Tarantula ejected the blade from his shoulder and aimed it straight for his heart. 

But, before he could strike the final blow, the man felt a sharp, searing pain in his back. Turning around, he was met with a bloody Elektra, with his knife in her hands. While he was momentarily distracted, Matt mustered all of his strength and kicked back up, knocking Tarantula away. 

Matt and Elektra then began to double team the man, eventually overpowering him. With one swift double punch, the man was knocked over. 

Turning to his companion, Matt began to drag her away. “We have to go, now!”

“We can't! He knows who you are! That's a liability that you can't afford, especially not with someone who took out a squad of Yakuza by himself!” Elektra pleaded.

“Elektra, we both have stab wounds. I can barely stand, let alone fight anymore. And by the sound of your heart beating, you're in the same boat,” Matt said. “It's better to regroup and deal with him later, when we're actually capable, then to bank on getting him in our states. Now come on, let's go-”

Elektra frowned at Matt's sudden quietness, before turning her head towards the man. Only, she was met with nothing but gravel. “But, how did he-”

Elektra was unable to process her thoughts, let alone finish her sentence as she heard a very familiar blaring of sirens coming closer. Taking Matt's hand, they ran off to escape as the police officers flooded the scene. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Think it'll scar?” Elektra asked as her and Matt sat on his couch, in their undergarments.

“Don't they all?” Matt replied, finishing up the crude stitch to Elektra's stab wound. As he cut the excess, Elektra then pushed him to lay back as she reciprocated the medical attention. 

“Reminds me of back in the day; remember when that asshole kept hitting on me, so you tried to fight him and ended up on the receiving end of a broken beer bottle,” Elektra reminisced. 

“Except he was a drunk frat boy and not a deadly assassin,” Matt joked. 

“Semantics.” 

Matt snorted, just as Elektra finished up his treatment. The two then sat in a brief silence as they tried to absorb the nights happenings. 

“It's even more important that we handle this, now that there's other players in the mix…” Elektra said, finally breaking the silence. 

“Yeah…” Matt said tiredly. 

“But… we can do that tomorrow, after your trial,” Elektra said, causing Matt to slightly perk up. Leaning forward, Matt smiled at the absolute shitshow of the night, unknowingly inching towards Elektra. 

When he finally realized what was happening, his face was inches away from hers. Listening to her heartbeat, he was reminded of a time when the sound was a welcomed one. 

“Goodnight Elektra,” Matt whispered as he got up and handed her a blanket. Elektra sent a thanks as she laid down on the couch, watching Matt walk towards his bedroom. When he closed the door behind him, she too closed her eyes and dreamt of an impossible future. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“When I said, 'drive a wedge’, I didn't mean it literally,” Virgil said as he greeted a slightly worse for wear Carlos at his apartment. 

“I saw an opportunity and I took it. It may not have worked out, but at least he's on his toes. And now that we know his secret, he'll be extra careful to keep Harry at a distance,” Carlos said as he ripped the knife from his back, stretching his muscles as his body weaved back to normal on its own. 

“Be that as it may, you risked interference from _them_. Especially since you came for _theirs_ ,” Virgil said, handing Carlos a meal he had prepared. 

“They've known we've been here for some time now. It was either us making the first move, or them,” Carlos said between bites. “That being said, they're predictable. They're the same old boogeymen that they've always been. We've grown since the split, they haven't.”

Virgil sat in his chair, unconvinced. 

“All I'm saying is don't sweat it. Besides, good old boss man is already making moves against them,” Carlos revealed, surprising Virgil.

“You mean?” 

“The Hand aren't ready for what Gorgon has in store for them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that this was the first mention of The Hand by name in this story, so wooooo! (It might not and the long gaps in-between chapters might be causing me to forget my own established canon XD) Also, mini-big-bad has a name now! AND, just like Black Tarantula, he is a real Marvel character associated with The Hand. Of course, I tweaked both of them to fit the story, but I did try to incorporate some of their canon into this (like Black Tarantula's healing factor).
> 
> Anyway, that's it for this chapter! If you want to comment, go right ahead! But, don't be an asshole!


	14. Chapter 14: Gluttony IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the trial of the century begins, Matt finds that teamwork really does make the dreamwork. On the otherside of town, Harry is with his father, trying to get to the root of his magic problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years to everyone! Hope it was great for all of you! Anyway, this chapter is where very distinct events will start to deviate from canon. 
> 
> This chapter was about 5k last week, but I ended up removing a scene in the middle because it wasn't translating well from what I was picturing it to be. It won't be noticable, but just a little behind the scenes tidbit.
> 
> I will warn that there will be some gore at the very last bit, so if you're not too hot on that, you can skip it!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I own nothing btw :)

Chapter 14: Gluttony IV

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
**xxx – parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
**_xxx – foreign language_**

 

“Matt! Matt! Wake up! You have a thing called a court case that's about to start soon!” Karen yelled as she banged on Matt's loft door. She was there to pick him up for the trial, and, in typical Nelson & Murdock fashion, the Murdock half was late. This case was too important for any of them to be less than perfect, so she took it upon herself to get him there. She had tried calling Harry to see if he could come and collect Matt, but all of her calls went straight to his voicemail. 

“Matt! Seriously, this is probably the most important case of your career and I don't think missing it is a good start!” Karen yelled once again, hoping that he was awake enough to hear her. 

She waited a few moments and was pleased to hear what sounded like frantic footsteps. Smiling at her successful wake up call, Karen sat on the edge of the inlet window, waiting for him to come out. The rustling inside began to draw near the door and Karen stood up to welcome Matt with the now cold cup of coffee she had brought for him. 

In an instant, the door slammed open, revealing a disheveled Matt; bolstering a loose tie and an unevenly folded collar, Matt looked as though he had just woken up from the aftermath of a New Year's party. 

“Shit! Shit, I'm so sorry, Karen!” Matt apologized, making his way to hug Karen, and almost causing the cup of coffee she was holding to spill on him. 

“Woah! Woah! You already look like you got trampled by a herd of animals, no need for you to look even worse with a coffee stain on your shirt,” Karen said, smiling goofily at her friend. 

“Well, I guess I'll just have it when we get there,” Matt said while turning back to close the door. 

Curious as to why Matt was late, she peeked in to see if she could spot a familiar messy head of hair. She wasn't able to quite discern what was going on inside and before she could look closer, Matt slammed the door shut.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Tell me again what happened last night, Mr. Potter,” the healer said as she used her wand to scan Harry's body. 

“I tried to Accio a glass of water and it blew up in my face,” Harry said, a look of worry etched on his face as he laid down on the healer's table. His father stood to the side, watching, and listening closely.

“And has this ever occurred before? Where your magic has overloaded?” she continued to ask, tapping her wand against her leg as she tried to interpret the results from the Diagnostic Spell. 

“Yeah, when I was kid and tried to steal a Treacle Tart from the top shelf of the fridge. I ended up bringing the entire fridge down on me,” Harry explained. 

“I see… well, Minister Quirrell? May I have a word with you outside?” The healer asked. 

“And why can he not be privy to what you have to say, miss?” Voldemort quipped back, acknowledging the thankful look Harry had given him. 

Sighing, the healer set the parchment down on the counter beside her as she leaned back. “The reason I asked to speak privately, and I mean no disrespect Minister, is because this is something Mr. Potter would not want to be hearing from me.”

“And that is?” Harry asked, annoyed at how she kept talking around the actual issue. 

“Long story short, you have the magical muscle memory of a toddler. Every avenue of control, save for your head, is akin to a three-year-old,” the healer admitted. 

“Is there any way to fix this?” Voldemort asked.

“Not that I know of. And honestly, this is something that most healers wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer for. As advanced as we are in terms of magical research, the pathways that magic flow through have never been empirically observed. All we know is that they're there, and that they develop as normal wizards grow older,” the woman answered, before devolving into researcher babble. “And even then, we don't even know how that is possible either-”

“Miss… would you please allow me some time to discuss things with my son?” Voldemort asked, the threat in his tone evident. 

“O-of course, Minister sir,” the healer said, before slipping out of the door and shutting it behind her. 

“Would you care to explain how something like this happened?” Voldemort asked, sitting down on a seat behind him. 

“Um… so you know how I was stabbed?” Harry began.

“Yes, I remember very distinctly Samuel explaining how you had gotten yourself into that particular situation,” Voldemort interrupted.

“So… I sort of… did something, and… it's kind of why my magical pathways are messed up now…” Harry said, bowing his head, more so to not see his father's face than in actual guilt. 

“What did you do, exactly?” Voldemort asked sharply. 

“I… sort of thrusted all of my magic out at once to-” Harry tried to say, before giving up on trying to explain. With his head down, Harry waited for whatever his father would say next. But what he didn't expect was for his father to engulf him in a hug. 

“I just don't want to see you be harmed…” his father whispered into his locks of hair. 

“Dad…” Harry muttered.

“Forgive me…” Voldemort whispered, much to the confusion of Harry. 

“What-” 

“Invoko Animam Mea,” Voldemort whispered, causing Harry's eyes to fade and his mind to go blank. 

Voldemort looked straight ahead and began to speak. “What’s going on with him, Tom?” 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“There you guys are!” Foggy all but yelled to them in the courthouse hall, “and what the hell, Matt! You were the one that pushed for us to take his case and yet you almost missed it?!”

“I'm sorry, Foggy. I just… had a rough night last night…” Matt said, not knowing whether he wanted Foggy to understand his insinuation or not. 

But, based on how much Foggy's heart was beating, Matt assumed that Foggy had understood. 

“Sorry, buddy…” Matt whispered to Foggy as they entered the courtroom. 

“At least you're here, and that's about a million times better than you just flat out missing this,” Foggy whispered back as they sat down. 

“Ready?” Karen asked the two of them, prompting the pair to give her tight smiles.

“As ready as soon as you can be defending a mass murdering psycho,” Foggy mumbled, earning him a jab to the side from Karen. 

Matt had taken their behavior as nerves and he didn't at all blame them for it. While fighting gangs and criminals was something that Matt had done regularly, he had never been a part of a case this big. He knew they were fighting an uphill battle and that it would be near impossible to come out of this unscathed. 

“Is that him?!” 

“Holy shit! It's Frank Castle!”

“Murderer!” 

“We believe in you, Frank!”

“Set Frank Free!”

Leaning over to Foggy, Matt whispered. “Sounds like the man of the hour is here.”

“Well, shit… here we go then,” Foggy said, buttoning up his suit.

Frank was escorted in by a guard of four men, all armed to the nines. Matt could hear the chains rattle and the guns clanking, but he knew Frank well enough, through their fights, that that wouldn't hold him. That at least made him feel some sort of comfort, as now he knew Frank really would try and play along for them, at least for now.

“All rise! Court is now in session, the honorable judge Cynthia Batzer presiding. Indictment number 1986-4447, The People vs Frank Castle,” the bailiff announced.

“Be seated,” Judge Batzer commanded.

“Hope you guys know what you're doing,” Frank mumbled to them. 

“Me too,” Frank whispered back to him.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant has been indicted on several serious crimes. But, as a point of law, I'm asking you to only make your judgement with the facts afforded to you from this courtroom. Any verdict, whether not guilty or guilty, should be made in full confidence and not be influenced by the profile of this case,” the judge explained to the jury. 

“Now, Ms. Reyes, are the People ready for opening statements?” Judge Batzer asked 'Reyes’.

“More than ready, your honor.” 'Reyes’ said with a smirk. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Frank Castle is not someone who should be allowed on the streets. Unlike the many… vigilantes that have come before, and will most likely come after, he has crossed a line no one should ever. Of what we know, he has brutally killed and tortured thirty people. And really, who's to say there aren't a plethora of other men and women who've died at the end of his gun.”

“It doesn't matter that his victims were allegedly criminals; what matters is the fact that he was the one who decided that. He took the mantle of judge, jury, and most violent executioner. That, jury, is not justice. But what is justice? Well it's what is going to be served to Frank Castle, here, in a court of law,” ‘Reyes’ said, turning back towards Frank for her final point. 

“He is no hero. He is a serial killer. And he is guilty,” she finished, gracefully sitting down on the opposite table. 

“Well, Mr. Murdock, are you ready to give your opening statement?” The judge asked. 

“Yes… your honor,” Matt said, standing up with the help of Foggy.

Extending his walking stick, Matt carefully made his way to the jury box. Holding his braille notes, Matt glossed over them. But, before he could recite his prepared speech, a spark of… something rose in him. Turning back towards Frank, Matt took a deep breath and crumpled up his notes, much to the surprise of the courtroom, sans Foggy, who looked like death had rolled into the room and was coming straight for him. 

“What. The. Fuck is he doing,” Foggy aggressively whispered to Karen as she too was shocked by Matt's actions. 

“Frank Castle… Frank Castle is so much more than what you see here today. Every fiber of his being is a contradiction. A man who shouldn't but does. A man who seeks justice but obliterates any notion of it when he acts. He is someone that should be helped but isn't being given the clemency that other… special individuals are. He is not… he is not what should be judged here,” Matt said, gripping his walking stick tightly as he musters every fiber of belief into what he is saying. 

“He is a symptom of a city… no, a world, so wrought in darkness and despair that even the noblest of men would never be able to find their way out of it. He is the result of injustice being done onto someone who, by all other accounts, was just like you and me. But now… now he is sick, and it's not his fault. He… he's done some pretty horrible things, I'm not going to ignore that. But what I am saying is… help him. Help him see the light we all see in the world. That's… all I can ask for, is a chance,” Matt said, stoically walking back to his seat. 

“That wasn't the statement we agreed on!” Foggy growled in his ear as the judge moved the trial along. 

“Well… it was the statement I needed to make… for his sake,” Matt returned.

“For his sake? Or for yours…” Foggy said, before facing back forward.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Well, it's been a long time since you've talked to me this way. Usually you creep around in Harry's mindscape while he's asleep,” Tom said, eyeing the man who contained the last bit of living soul of his former self. 

“Enough, Tom. What happened?” Voldemort asked angrily.

“… he was being… possessed by some creature. Whatever that man on the roof did to him was powerful and potent. It didn't even take a second before it had latched onto Harry's- our magical pathways. It was eating him alive and I couldn't allow him to be harmed!” Tom explained to him, eyes glowing red.

“This creature… was it made from shadows?” Voldemort asked, laying Harry down on the table as he walked to Tom. 

“Yes… how did you… I see…” Tom asked, before getting visions from his originator. 

“So, you think these two incidences are related? That the man you and Samuel captured, and the people we fought, are synonymous with each other?” Tom queried. 

“It's too early to assume such, but what I do know is that the man who Samuel and I had in our custody was part of an ancient organization,” Voldemort explained. 

“Really? An ancient organization? What is this, a retelling of the Goblin war epic-” Tom tried to say, before Voldemort's red eyes glowed blood red.

“This is no time to joke about, Tom! If these people have their eyes on Harry, then we're all in danger. They're no joke, even to me- us,” Voldemort said. “The True Believers are a coalition of muggles and wizards who sought out beings from a world beyond ours. They have influence reaching from Japan and beyond. They have agents all across the wizarding and muggle communities of Asia.”

“So then why the bloody hell would they be after the British Minister's son?” Tom asked. 

“Well, I have one idea in mind…” Voldemort said, trailing off. 

Scrunching up his face, Tom sneered at him. “That's impossible and highly improbable. There is only _one_ person in the entire world that knows about… what I am, and what Harry really means to you. And that is _you_. So, unless you've been mouthing off, it's highly doubtful they know.”

“Then come up with a better idea! Because we need as much information as we can get if we want to protect Harry and ourselves,” Voldemort said. 

“I'm sure you'll come up with something. After all, you are me,” Tom said, before fading into oblivion. 

“That insolent brat,” Voldemort angrily muttered to himself as he levitated Harry’s body towards the Portkey to his apartment.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Well, that went… surprisingly well today,” Foggy admitted as they left the courtroom.

“See! I told you not to worry too much, we had them in the palm of our hands! Reyes was practically floundering!” Matt said, chuckling as the three of them took a seat on the bench. 

“Well, I guess I can be thankful that Reyes was weirdly off her game today. Besides her opening, she basically let her lacky do everything. And what she did do was-” Foggy said, before Karen finished his statement.

“A pile of legal horse shit?” Karen said, earning a giggle from her companion's. 

“I mean… yeah!” Matt said. “But still, I think we really hammered our case down to the jury. We just have to be prepared for the medical examiner tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, but Karen and I whipped up some stuff to go off of. So, when we do go tomorrow, please, for the love of God, don't go off script again,” Foggy jokingly pleaded.

“I promise,” Matt said.

“Now, how about we go get some actual food in celebration? And maybe invite Harry along, since he wasn't here today,” Karen suggested. 

“Ehh, I don't think I have the stomach lining to appreciate real food. Jodie's classic maybe-meat deluxe sub made sure of that,” Foggy joked, causing the other two to laugh loudly. 

“Well then… why don't we grab some Thai food from the place across from my loft, and we can eat it there while we go over strategy. Like we used to do in college,” Matt said.

“No, that's what _I_ did in college. You were off living the high life with little miss trust fund,” Foggy stated as the trio walked towards the parking lot to their respective cars.

“Little miss trust fund?” Karen asked Matt as she got into her car, signaling for Foggy to follow them.

“Uh… long story,” Matt sheepishly said. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You sure about this? Bringing him this deep into it?” Elektra asked the man standing beside her, as they, well she, looked across the Hudson River.

“Sooner or later, he's going to need to step up to the plate. Shits getting too big for him to play house. He needs a wakeup call, Ellie,” the man with shades said.

“Stick… he's not like us… he can wade in the darkness, but he can't dive in…” she said, replying to her mentor and father figure. 

“That's because he has life preservers keeping him afloat. Once they're gone, he won't question what needs to be done,” Stick said, turning around to go back to his car, leaving Elektra in the wake of his order. 

“Stick… don't make me do this… you- I can't do that to him,” Elektra pleaded, despite knowing the man would ignore her pleas. 

“Don't let your love for him cloud your head, Ellie. You've known your whole life what's about to go down. If they… if they get what they want, there won't be a life for him to salvage,” Stick said to her from his open window, before closing it and driving off. 

“Fuck…” Elektra muttered, as she wiped the tear that threatened to fall down her face. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Bugger… where… where am I?” Harry groaned, reaching for anything to indicate where he was.

**_“You fell asleep, hatchling; so, hatchling's bearer brought you home. The flying rat and I have been watching over you since he left,” Nagini hissed._**

**_“Oh, I see. And don't call Hedwig that! She's as much my familiar as you are!” Harry hissed back in Parseltongue._ **

**_“I'm sorry, I do not understand you!” Nagini hissed, slithering away despite Harry's protests._ **

“Rude snake… ugh. I must've been out like a light. I wonder…” Harry muttered, grabbing his phone to see if he had missed any calls. 

“Your phone has been ringing nonstop for the past hour or so,” a voice from behind Harry said. 

“And you couldn't wake me up to answer it?” Harry quipped to Tom. 

“You needed the rest, Harry. Besides, it was just that muggle lover of yours. Something about a court case and-” Tom explained, before rolling his eyes at Harry's now frantic demeanor as he nearly fell off the bed reading his phone. 

“Shit! Today was the first day of the case!” Harry rambled. 

“From the looks of it, they were successful. They even invited you for a celebration of sorts,” Tom said.

“Shit…” Harry muttered to himself as he dialed Bruno. When it eventually connected, Bruno beat Harry to the punch before he could say anything.

“Do you need something, sir?” Bruno asked.

“I was hoping you could-” Harry tried to say, before Bruno interrupted him.

“I'm sorry sir, but Master Quirrell has forbade me from taking you places without his explicit permission,” he explained.

“I'm on house arrest?!” Harry yelled.

“He was adamant in his decision, sir. And, to be frank, I do agree with him. You were assaulted and the people who did so are still at large. There's no telling the danger you could be in if you were out and about, especially with your magic on the fritz!” Bruno indignantly answered.

“But-”

“But nothing! The least you could do, for both your father's and my peace of mind, is to remain in a place where we know you're safe!” Bruno said, before cancelling the call. 

“Dammit…” Harry muttered. Throwing his phone on the bed, Harry tried to picture the outside of Matt's loft as he prepared to Apparate there himself.

“I would avoid doing what you are about to do. With your control gone, who's to say you won't instantly splinch your heart out?” Tom said, reading Harry's thoughts. 

Giving Tom a harsh stare, Harry clenched his fists before relenting to his logic. Closing his eyes and falling back on the bed, Harry rubbed his face in frustration. “I'm a grown adult, not a student who got caught sneaking out in the halls after dark. I don't know why he doesn't trust me…”

“Perhaps your father is acting like an actual _father_ , and attempting to keep you safe…” Tom said, earning a glare from Harry as he laid his head on Tom's lap. “Like it or not, _we're_ much more vulnerable now. Your father, and in all honesty you, have many enemies, of which now include that group from the roof. It'd be better and _smarter_ to stay put while your father figures out a way to help you.” 

“… I hate it when you make sense,” Harry muttered, closing his eyes once more as the relaxed into Tom's touch. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Still no answer?” Foggy said, though his mouth full of food made it come out much more indiscernible. 

“Well, it's late and he probably has plans right now. Wait till he calls back,” Karen suggested, making sure to swallow her food before she spoke. 

“You guys are right… anyway, let's go over this one more time,” Matt said, trying to get over not seeing Harry. 

“So, I go up to him and ask him all about the case he handled back then, making sure to line it up with Frank's account of what happened to his family,” Matt started. 

“And then, you ask him after you get him all flustered-” Karen continued.

“‘Who told you to change the report?’” Foggy finished.

“Whatever he says, it'll come back to him changing it regardless of if Reyes was involved,” Matt said. 

“Shit, we might actually pull this off, huh?” Karen said, taking a sip of her wine. 

“If everything goes according to plan!” Foggy added in.

“It will, don't worry. I'll make sure to actually set an alarm on time!” Matt joke.

“Please don't joke about that, I almost had a heart attack when you weren't there on time…” Foggy said.

“I'm sorry, buddy. I promise I won't let you down again,” Matt said, earning a thanks from Foggy.

Once they had finished going over their strategy, a comfortable silence drenched the air, until Karen broke it. “Do you guys ever wonder what it’s like to be like _him_?”

“Frank?” Matt asked, earning a snort from Foggy.

“No… I mean, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Like, I know he doesn't, as far as we know, kill… but… I can't help but see him and see Frank…” Karen said, getting up to pour herself another glass.

“See what?” Foggy asked.

“See who we are… what we are as a city; as a society. I mean, we have people like the Avengers who save the world from aliens and the like. And then we have people like them who… aren't so flashy about it all. I mean, obviously Frank isn't someone to compare them to, but the Devil… what is the line between him being the just another Frank, and him being someone like the Avengers for small little Hell's Kitchen,” Karen contemplated. 

“Well…” Matt tried to say, before Foggy gave him a sympathetic look. 

“The difference is that there isn't a difference. They're two sides of the same insane-batshit-idiot-vigilante coin. One just happened to be flipped up, facing the world. The other is face down to the ground, where they can only see the floor,” Foggy wisely answered, while glaring at Matt who pursed his lips at Foggy’s intentional dig at him. 

“But still, I mean… he's only gone after... bad people. I know he shot at me and Harry, but that was more coincidence than contempt. I just… I can't help but see his side of things. Why he does what he does. I mean, after going through what he did… I see why he wants vengeance” Karen said, sitting down. 

“But vengeance isn't justice, Karen. You can't just… you can't just go around and kill people, regardless of what happened to you,” Matt said, getting frustrated at Karen's disregard for the legality of Frank's actions.

“I think we've all had a little too much to drink, and I think we all need to just relax a bit,” Foggy said, trying to diffuse the growing argument. 

“Well you can't deny that what he does works!” Karen nearly yelled out, horrified not even seconds after she let those words leave her mouth. 

Inhaling deeply, both Matt and Foggy tried to reason what Karen had just said. Of the two, Foggy was the first to collect his thoughts enough to speak. 

“You… you really think that, Karen?” Foggy whispered.

“No… no… maybe,” Karen stammered out. 

The three friends were unable to break the unease in the air; none of them willing to confront the other.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You know, you used to be such a talker back in the day, Nobu. It annoyed the hell out of me. So, I hope you don't mind that I cut out your throat,” Gorgon said as he watched the last vestiges of life leave Nobu's bloody face. 

Out of all his old comrades, Nobu was the one who never trusted him. While the Fingers and the foot soldiers all desperately tried to win his favor, Nobu stood firm in his utter distrust of the unhinged man. He was rightfully justified in his actions, but still, it annoyed him to no end that Nobu of all people could see through his facade. 

His reminiscing of the past was interrupted by a groan coming from the pile of Hand ninjas that he had put in the corner. He may be a murderous psychopath, but a slob he was not. Standing up, Gorgon huffed as a young man tried his best to escape despite the majority of his body being slashed apart.

“Oh, you could've just stayed still and maybe someone could've found you. But then you decided to annoy me,” Gorgon said, before thrusting his sword straight through the ninja's head.

Sheathing his sword, blood and all, Gorgon walked away with a bounce in his step. “Your move, Alexandra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind that Bruno is coming off as more and more of an Alfred-butler type of character, feeding in to that classic trope. I promise he'll play a crucial part later on, beyond being the Agent A to Harry's Dick Grayson :) Also, I hope you guys understood why things happened the way they did in the court scene. Since Matt actually wasn't late this time (thanks to Karen) he was able to deliver an opening akin to what I feel was a mixture of Foggy's canon one and what I think Matt would've done, which was based on that scene where he brought Frank to the stand. 
> 
> Anyway, that's all from me, leave a comment if you want, but be respectful!


	15. Chapter 15: Gluttony V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there's a high, there is a low; and for Matt and company, things seem to be riding on the former. But, will it last?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking two months to write this, school's been taking up all my time. But, I'm here now with a new chapter, and it's an exciting one! It's truly a 0 - 100 kind of chapter, so be prepared for the wild ass ride (and please don't hate me for the ending :P) There's a lot going on, so there'll be many POV and scene switches, so be prepared! Anyway, same as always, enjoy!
> 
> PS: ALSO, I may/will be starting up a Kingdom Hearts x HP fanfic because I finished KH3 (amazing, spectacular, never before done, etc. etc.) the week it came out and have been itching to get creative now that the Xeanhort arc is done! Expect lots of Disney and lots of gay-ness, because what's better? 
> 
> PSS: There might also be a Pokemon x HP fanfic in the works because Shield/Sword are set in Poke-England (aka Galar) so why not? (This will probs be written when the game comes out though, so it won't be soon)

Chapter 15: Gluttony V

“xxx” – regular speech  
_xxx – thoughts/emphasis_  
**xxx – parseltongue**  
~xxx~ - flashbacks/glimpses into canon events that I've decided to push into the background  
**_xxx – foreign language_**

 

~ “How does it feel, old man? To have so spectacularly and utterly lost.” Voldemort whispered, crouching down to face the man who had tormented his youth with suspicion and prejudice. 

“If you think the light ends with me, you are sorely mistaken, Tom. The light will always prevail over darkness. You can kill me, hide me, spirit me away, but you'll never snuff the good out!” The once prestigious wizard ground out, voice laced with determination. 

Voldemort merely grinned, chuckling at the last vestiges of fight left in the former Supreme Mugwump. “Are you sure, Albus? Because it appears to me that there isn't much light left, especially in your… new abode.”

“You won't win… no matter what you've done, no matter the lies and falsities you've poured into the boys head, he will turn his back to you once he knows who you are!” Dumbledore hissed, “and once he does, you will be defeated!”

Voldemort looked on with mirth in his tight grin. Stepping back towards the windowed wall of the cell, Voldemort peaked out to briefly watch the crashing waves that seemed to go on forever in the distance. Turning back to Dumbledore, Voldemort gave him a look filled with glee.

“And who should be the one to reveal that to him? Definitely not your dogs since they were practically begging me to be in Harry's life, offering whatever it took. It couldn't be that brood of penny-pinchers, since they have to live with the shame of their son almost becoming a murderer, all thanks to you. And it certainly isn't your band of sympathizers, since they've all gladly come to understand my side of things, whether they realize who I am or not,” Voldemort said, voice getting sharper and crueler with every word shot from his viper tongue. 

“You are all alone, Albus. And to make it even sweeter, you'll be all alone here in your Azkaban cell knowing that Harry is mine. That you never had the chance to sink your decrepit claws into him; that you'll live out the rest of your days knowing Harry will only ever see you as the monster who tried to have him killed,” Voldemort finished, taking in with immense satisfaction the look of utter defeat on Dumbledore's face.

“If only your beloved Grindelwald were here to see how far you've fallen…” Voldemort said in parting before Apparating away, leaving Dumbledore to contemplate the path he had chosen for himself, and now the world. ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“This is idiotic, and you'll only end up getting yourself into trouble,” a familiar, yet younger, sharp tongue pointed out to the haphazardly dressed man in front of him.

“Bugger off, Tom! This'll work! If they're anything like the ones back home, then I'll be fine! We just have to get to the parking garage, and we'll be set!” Harry grumbled, struggling as always to properly fix his tie. 

Rolling his eyes, Tom walked up from the spot on the bed he had taken residence on to help. Harry thanked him, giving the guarded boy a sweet smile that aggravated Tom to no end, if only for the fact that it was such a powerful weapon against him. 

Fixing up the rest of Harry's attire, Tom ushered out of the way to let Harry look at himself in the mirror. 

“You do realize that this is a courtroom, correct? This isn't the Yule Ball, nobody gives a damn about how you look. Especially since the person you're wearing this for can't even see you,” Tom snarked, earning a disgruntled scolding from his counterpart.

“And? It's still something important! Besides, you're not the one wearing anything! Let me look like I give a damn in peace,” Harry said, placing his wand inside an enchanted satchel that Hermione had gifted him for his work here in America. 

“Bravo! They obviously made the wrong decision naming Granger the best witch of her age. Your logic far exceeds the limitations of hers!” Tom said sarcastically, earning a heated glare from Harry. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hop back into whatever corner of my head you wallow in and let's go,” Harry said, making his way through his apartment and to the door. Giving Hedwig and Nagini a quick goodbye, which consisted of Nagini threatening to snitch on him and Hedwig chasing her around for it, Harry quietly made his way out the door and towards the elevator.

Exiting at the parking garage, Harry made sure to avoid any form of surveillance using his Invisibility Cloak. Sneaking outside, Harry carefully poked his wand out towards and curve. Feeling the familiar pull, Harry waited to remove the cloak until he saw the apple green taxi come barreling towards him. 

Harry stuffed his cloak into his satchel and grabbed a couple of sickles from inside it. 

“Thank you for choosing the Knight Taxi Service of New York. We know there are many transportation options at the disposal of wizards, so we thank you for choosing ours. Our rates for travel within the city are…” The goblin in the driver's seat recited to Harry, though he was not listening.

_Let's hope Bruno or father don't find out, Harry thought to himself._

_Doubtful, Tom snarked._

_Shut it, Tom._

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You really know how to get your feelings across, ehh Tomi? Reminds me of what you did when that group of monks pissed you off,” Carlos chuckled to Tomi as the two sat inconspicuously inside a diner. 

“They had that coming! They could've avoided it all, had they just let me have the damn temple. Instead they wanted to go on and fight me for it! But at least they gave me a fight!” Tomi jested back, his unhinged nature peeking through his civilian visage.

“Cut Alexandria, or whatever the hell she goes by these days, some slack! You know you basically snatched up all of her good eggs for our master. All she had left were the scraps,” Carlos chuckled, pouring himself some coffee from the pot the waitress had left for them. 

“At least we now know why she's so desperate to have a **_kuroi sora_**. Even I would have trouble dealing with one that's fully awakened,” Tomi muttered, stroking the leather of his katana's soya. 

“Speaking of trouble… the hag is starting to catch on. She's been moving her people around every block trying to find him. Luckily the kid's got some heavy ass wards on his place, so she won't find him like that,” Carlos said, downing his coffee. “Not to mention our dear old friend probably already knows we slaughtered his little litter of kittens. He'll probably be making an appearance soon, if not already.”

“Which means that four Fingers will be treading around each other in the same city. What fun…” Tomi smirked.

“We should probably grab the kid soon. Any later and we run the risk of them deciding they want a wand and not a sai,” Carlos said seriously.

“Perhaps we should inform dear Avery that it's time for him to finish his job and collect his pay,” Tomi said while getting up from his seat. 

“And where did you suddenly get six million on short notice?” Carlos said, giving the crazed man a skeptical look. 

“I didn't,” Tomi said, smirking as he walks away. “He'll be paid, though. Just… a different currency. Besides, I hear the price of steel has skyrocketed.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“No, we haven't made any headway on that branding,” Sam said loudly, already sensing the magical signature of the man who walked into his office unannounced. 

“How is it that we've known about this tattoo for weeks, and yet you haven't found anything?” Voldemort sneered, placing a collection of parchment paper on Sam's cluttered desk. 

“If only you weren't Harry's dad…” Sam muttered, breathing in to calm himself.

“I'd still be the Minister of Magic,” Voldemort said with a sharp smirk. 

“I’m assuming this stack of parchment has something to do with the tattoo?” Sam asked, eyeing the parchments on his desk. 

“Yes, I tried to find out all I could about the mark. I was able to find several references to a mark matching the one on that man's neck. It's a symbol to denote a deity worshiped by a sect within their magical community,” Voldemort explained. 

“They were excommunicated because their worship of this deity meant that they practiced in dark magic; sacrificial, of the human variety,” Voldemort grimaced, as did Sam. 

“So evil organizations, psychotic zealots, and a deity that accepts payment in human souls… great,” Sam said, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. “So, after that history lesson from hell, did you find out from one of your side if these guys were spotted in the city?” 

“Unfortunately, no. We've let several magical businesses know to notify us should they see someone with the branding,” Voldemort said.

“Well then, we're still at square one. If we can't even find these guys, then-” Sam said, trying to finish. Unfortunately, it seemed as though his efforts were moot, as a huge bear Patronus waltzed in, pausing their conversation. 

“Sir, I'm sorry to inform you that Harry has left his apartment.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“You guys ready?” Karen asked, pacing outside the door to the courtroom. 

“As ready as I can be,” Matt said, giving her a tiny smile. 

“Don't worry, Karen. We went over this a thousand times last night! The only thing that could screw us is if Frank screamed out that he was guilty,” Foggy said, before his eyes widened. “Uhh, you know what? Let me take that back, because with our luck, the universe would throw that at us!” 

“Foggy! Uhh, that was no help at all!” Karen said, playfully glaring at her blonde partner. 

“Alright guys! Let's do this,” Matt said, chiding his associates before they opened the doors to the courtroom.

Bustling with protestors on both sides, the trio were met with a mix of cheers and scowls. Frowning, Foggy shook off his nerves, and stepped forward to prepare for today's proceedings. 

“You ready?” Foggy whispered to Matt.

“Haven't been since the trial started,” Matt whispered back, “but I know we can do this.”

At that moment, Tepper nervously walked in, his heart beating as fast as a jack hammer. Sweat was protruding from the skin of his forehead and in the palms of his hands. Matt frowned, unsure as to what seemed to have caused such a visceral reaction. Even if the man was nervous, he shouldn't be as distraughtly acting as he was now. 

_Focus. We can analyze it later._

Matt took a deep breath and exhaled, mentally preparing himself for the interrogation he'd be doing towards the man. In the calm of both the audience and the court field, Matt loosened the grip on his cane.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though the short calm before the storm was interrupted by a plethora of camera flashes and shouting outside the courthouse. Matt assumed such, as no one else in the room seemed to react to the burst of movement going on. Focusing his hearing, Matt tried to pinpoint the source of commotion. 

“Matt?” A soft and familiar voice uttered behind him, causing him to snap back to the courtroom. 

Turning around, Matt instantly recognized the person who had so sweetly called his name. Smiling, Matt got up and went on to give Harry a tight hug. 

“You're here!” Matt exclaimed to him as the Brit chuckled.

“Well, I missed the first day, so I made sure to make it today!” Harry said, nodding to both Karen and Foggy as he set his satchel down on the bench behind him. 

“Well, dear future-bro-in-law, you picked the perfect day to come see us, because we are about to unleash a proverbial can of legal ass whooping today!” Foggy exclaimed a bit too loudly, earning looks from the occupants of the court.

In particular, ‘Reyes’ herself seemed to have become fixated on the now quartet. Smirking deviously, ‘Reyes’ sat down next to Towers, humming a bizarre tune quietly. 

“Good luck,” Harry whispered to Matt, adding in a chaste kiss for good measure, as the judge commenced the proceedings. 

As the woman banged the gavel, the wooden doors of the room opened, and in dramatic fashion, Frank Castle was being led in chains. The man was met with jeers and cheers alike, but the man paid them no mind as he looked directly at Harry in the audience. 

Staring back, Harry felt a bit unnerved to be in such close proximity to someone who, just a week ago, tried to kill him with a shotgun. Unable to deal with the bruised face of Castle, Harry cast his look down. However, Castle's stare remained until he was seated in front of Harry and beside the legal trio of his defense. 

“Defense, would you like to start today?” The judge asked, eyeing their side with a deadpan stare. 

“Of course, Judge Batzer. The defense would like to call to the stand Gregory Tepper,” Matt said confidently.

“Mr. Tepper, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? So help you God?” The bailiff said, holding a book up to Tepper's hand.

“I-I… do solemnly swear to tell the t-truth, the whole truth, and nothing b-but the truth,” Tepper shakily said, earning an eyebrow raise from 'Reyes’ and Towers, the latter of whom stood to question him. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

Watching the proceedings, Frank chuckled to himself, eyeing the cowering man in podium. He'd dealt with many a coward, but this sniveling idiot took the cake. The guy was tripping over his own words, and even Frank could clearly see that the guy who was questioning him was trying to help. 

It was pathetic really, that a guy like this had a hand in what happened to him. That his family were nothing but unnamed fatalities because of him. It almost made Frank want to just sock the guy right then and there; almost. Even he could tell that his impromptu lawyers were just aching to chew the guy out. 

Observing said lawyers was an interesting way to pass the time as the prosecutors tried to steer the coroner. The two next to him were like open books; they wore their hearts on their sleeves, and their faces gave everything away. His trained eyes picked up on every small twitch of the eyes, the creasing of the mouth. 

But Murdock was much more of an enigma, as Frank was never quite able to get a read on him. It some ways, that reminded Frank of himself. The constant awareness of self, the checking of one's emotions, the hardened facade of a soldier in battle. 

But that wasn't true, he wasn't like Frank. Not when he was with the green-eyed guy. Shifting his eyes behind him, Frank peaked at him. Since only seeing the man in passing hurry, Frank, in the calmness of the trial, was able to get a good look at Harry. 

He noticed the slightly disheveled hair, the lithe form of his body, the posture of him sitting. But what took the cake and drew his gaze were Harry's emerald eyes. Frank had never seen a green so vibrant and so piercing. 

He was surprised to see that Harry had caught onto his looking, as he had slightly blushed, before frowning. The corners of Frank's mouth twitched as he turned his head forward, flippantly focusing on the interrogation occurring. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Will that be all for the prosecution?” Judge Batzer asked. 

“Yes, your honor,” Towers said.

Harry watched the proceedings with as much attention and understanding as a wizard could in a setting like this. Business seemed to truly be the only universal practice between the two people, as the inner workings of law for muggles were only remotely similar to that of the wizards. 

Thankfully, enough of the muggle world had spilled into the wizarding one at the time that they did have televisions, which gave them a glimpse into how things like this worked. When his father wasn't being a hardass, Harry attempted to absorb as much of muggle culture as he could through televisions. It was only until he got older that he had demanded to learn about the world his mother had been born into. 

~ “Silence! Silence!” Amelia Bones screamed, banging her wooden hand gavel.

The members of the Wizengamot fell to a hush, all staring down at the two figures at the podium. The ginger-haired boy cowered at the sound but tried his best to look at the members through his tear-filled eyes. 

The disgraced headmaster, on the other hand, looked directly past the judge, to the shadows that hid the new Minister. He glared at the former professor, his eyes forgoing any of their trademark twinkle. His jaw clenched, anger coursing through him as he listened to the proceedings.

Turning his head, he spotted Harry sitting with his godfathers Remus and Sirius; the latter of whom had been exonerated in Harry's fourth year after Peter Pettigrew had suddenly appeared at the doorstep of the head Auror's office. Sitting a way away from them were the rest of the Weasley clan, distraught and heartbroken that things had ended up this way.

The boy eventually caught his stare, reciprocating a look of anger and a touch of sadness. The boy had, despite his father's slight jabs to the man over the years, admired the now former headmaster. His admiration was one of the reasons Ron hadn't outright tossed Harry and his’ friendships to the curb in fourth year. 

Despite his clear disdain for Harry's disposition of taking the spotlight, he felt that anyone who thought of Dumbledore in a positive light wasn't so bad, especially for a Slytherin like himself. 

“Ronald Weasley, you are being charged with the attempted murder of the Minister's son Harry Potter. How do you plead?” Bones said in a cold voice.

“I-I plead n-not guilty! It was all the old man's doing! He kept telling me these things about how he-who-shall-not-be-named was back!” Ron hysterically proclaimed, earning a shaky, tear filled nod from his mother. “At first, I thought he was a barmy coot, but then… then he started to make sense and I- I don't know what happened. Harry… Harry is-was my friend, but then… then I realized he was just as bad as any slimy Slytherin. He wasn't different at all!”

The redhead's sudden shift in tone earned several curious stares and whispers from the rafters. After another call to order, Bones spoke. 

“It is come at the suggestion of Lucius Malfoy to proceed with a scanning of the boys mind, to find any traces of manipulative magic. All in favor?” She asked, looking around as a majority of hands were raised. “Then we shall do so. Aurors, take the boy to a mind healer and bring one of his parents.”

As she ordained, the Aurors took the boy and his mother away from the courtroom, leaving Dumbledore alone. 

“And you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, are charged with attempted murder, planning said attempt, and conspiracy against the government. How do you plead?” Bones sneered at the man. 

“Guilty.” ~

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Who could've done something like this?” Elektra asked behind her mask, frowning at the sheer excess of gore.

“My guess? Somebody I haven't heard of in a long ass time,” Stick muttered, pacing between Nobu's mutilated body and the pile of bodies on the next wall over. 

“You know someone who could've done this?” Elektra asked. 

“Yeah, real piece of work, that one is. Name's Tomi Shishido, been around as long as Nobu. Apparently, he had a penchant for… going batshit when it came to a fight,” Stick explained, using his sheathed sword to poke at Nobu's corpse. 

“You mean he's… one of them? The Hand?” 

“Nah, at least not when I knew of him. He'd gone rogue and joined some cult before I even joined the Chaste. Found a different way to be an evil piece of shit,” Stick explained. 

“So, they ended up as enemies, then? Could be an explanation for all this,” Elektra theorized. 

“No… there's more to it. Shit like this,” Stick said, pointing at all the carnage, “doesn't coincidentally happen just as Madame Gao starts combing the city, or as Murakami finally comes stateside. It must be a-” 

“Taunt. A warning, a message, something to get the Hand's attention. Enough so that they'd come flocking to Hell's Kitchen,” Elektra finished for him. 

“I'm glad those strategy lessons weren't a waste of my time,” Stick complimented Elektra in his own annoying way.

Ignoring his backhanded compliment, Elektra began to walk towards the exit of the complex, already having had enough gore for the day. “We’ve gotten all we can from here, we have to move on to the next place.”

“Slow down, Ellie. We have to look at the bigger picture before we dive in like a bunch of dumbasses,” Stick said, getting a smirk out of Elektra. “The Hand is looking for something, and Tomi knows this. He's either trying to provoke them towards complete war, or he's trying to distract them. My money's on both.” 

“What should we do then?” Elektra asked. 

“Stay five steps ahead of everyone else; starting with finding out what the hell the Hand is after.”

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“It is ready, sir,” the Japanese woman purred, offering a gold knife to Tomi. The man took it, smirking at the reverence the woman had for him. She quickly vacated the room, leaving him with the kanji and rune carved sacrificial knife. 

Casually tossing it in the air, and then catching it, Tomi walked towards the shrine at the back wall of the temple's apex. “Soon, master… I will deliver you your future vessel. You'll be able to walk this plane once again.”

**_“Make haste. I refuse to wait any longer within this world, not after tasting freedom. Being trapped for millennia by that triumvirate of brothers has worn away at my patience,” A distorted voice spoke from beyond the veil of shadowy energy._ **

“Of course, master…” Tomi said, bowing to the shrine as the shadows dissipated, leaving a pristine obsidian mirror shining from the flames of the torches. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“Hmm. Hmmmm. Hmm.”

A figure in black walks up the stairs of the courthouse.

“Excuse me, sir. We're gonna need you to make sure you have taken out any metal you have on your person's.” 

“Hmm. Hmmmm. Hm.”

The man tilts his head as the guards nervously make way for their firearms.

“Sir! Step back! Or we will use force if necessary!” 

“Hmmmm. Hmm.”

He's the only man left standing.

“Oh god, run! Run!”

“Hmmmm.”

He makes his way through the hallway, watching as everyone runs. 

“Please… please don't hurt us…”

“Hm.”

He stands in front of the door.

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“What the hell do you mean we don't have anyone there?! Is everyone here fucking paid to just sit around? No?! Then let's get someone to the damn courthouse now!” Jason Ellison, editor in chief of the New York Bulletin, screamed at his staff. 

News of the trial heating up had been rampant among the denizens of New York. Everyone and their mother wanted to know about it, and dammit if they'd let any other newspaper get an exclusive first.

“Sir?” A staffer asked Ellison, who hadn't realized that all the people there had promptly stopped what they were doing to tune in to the TV. 

“What the… turn it up!” Ellison said, making the person with the remote fumble to raise the volume. 

“We are getting reports that there is an enhanced individual attacking the courthouse where the infamous Punisher, otherwise known as Frank Castle, is currently on trial for multiple crimes. It is unknown whether this individual is working with Castle or not.” a reporter said.

Flipping through channels, the occupants of the New York Bulletin were met with very similar reports.

“We are getting word that the police are trying to get into contact with the Avengers to help combat the enhanced assailant. We have no solid news on any casualties, but if the situation shifts, we will make sure you know,” another news reporter said with a grim expression on her face. 

“Holy shit…” Ellison said, covering his mouth in pure shock. 

 

-Being Damned By The Devil Isn’t So Bad-

 

“… I'm sure you've handled many bodies in your fourteen years. And I'm sure you've also signed many a death certificate as well? Is that correct?” Matt asked the man, smirking as he was on a few steps away from getting this man's confession. 

“Well, I- I guess, but-” Tepper tried to say, before a myriad of distant noises could be heard in the courtroom. The occupants of said room looked towards the hall in curiosity, figuring that some Castle fanatic had somehow found his way in. 

But Matt knew better, for the second he focused in, he heard the horrific screams of innocents, the squelching of cut flesh, and worst of all, the footsteps at the center of it all coming closer. 

He gripped his walking stick tightly, forgoing continuing with the trial as he made his was ever so slightly towards the door. 

“Guard! Someone get them to shut the hell up out there!” Judge Batzer ordered. The guard nearest to the door made his way towards it, sighing before opening it. 

“No! Don't!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cowers behind a rock* Don't hate me for this pleaseeeee. I had to get the story from point A to B and this was the only way to do it! Anyway, chapter arcs will be 2-3 chapters instead of 5 from here on out. Anyway, thanks for reading! If you have any questions or anything, feel free to nicely comment them! And as always, leave any sort of other comment so long as you're not being an asshole!

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to, please feel free to leave a review/comment/whatever! Since I'm new to this whole thing, constructive criticism would be appreciated! But there's also no excuse for being an asshole so don't try it!
> 
> Also, if there are any continuity errors you spot besides the obvious AU changes I've made, please point them out! I'm writing this off both memory and currently re-watching it all! So I might accidentally omit/mistake something.


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